Arlathan
by VoiDreamer
Summary: It meant ‘Place I Love’ in elvish, but for her the word would embody not a land but a human lover. A promise of a future, if only she can survive the scars on her soul and withstand the sacrifice demanded of her as a Grey Warden. Alistair x Tabris
1. Chapter 1: Shattered

AN:Alrighty! So here's the first chapter of Arlathan, a female Tabris/Alistair fic which I expect to be pretty long. As chapters will be kind of lengthy, expect one chapter every week or so (maybe more depending upon my schedule). I love DAO and though I wasn't orignally going to pursue a long fic for this game, I just love the entire plot of the game too much to focus on one section (though goodness knows I've read many WONDERFUL examples on this site).

I'll do my best to make the story both exciting and true to character but if I ever seem to slip on either of them (or my grammar seems to be lack) please PLEASE let me know :) I love feedback of any kind so feel free to send me a little message no matter what.

Thanks for reading - hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own DAO or anything you recognize - Bioware is much too amazing and powerful for me to say otherwise :)

_

* * *

__Why?_

Elisaris Tabris sat beneath the thick canopy of evergreens amidst the dark of night, the clouds all but swallowing the stars. She had traveled not more than three days away from the Denerim Alienage but already she could feel the loss acutely, as if her heart had been rend from her chest and she was left to deal with the consequences.

_She had tried desperately to keep them all safe_. _So why had this happened?_

Glancing down at the delicate golden circle around her ring finger, the young woman felt her lips tremble as the desire to weep steadily grew. It was beautiful really, the ring. Hardly the extravagant bejeweled creations she had seen her human mistress wear, Elisaris had found the unadorned golden band a more precious gem by far. _He_ had made it for her himself, and that was all that mattered; even if he had never been able to give it to her.

A silent tear streaked down her cheek as she closed her eyes against new stab of pain. She had never wanted anything more than a happy life in the Alienage with a family, her father and the rest of her friends. The death of her mother as a child had shown her the horrors that human beings were capable of, and she had never wanted to become involved with any human ever again. Her job in the house of a lesser noble in the city had been one of necessity, and even then she had protected herself with a shroud of silence that kept away unwanted attention. She was no great beauty, nor sophisticated paragon of knowledge, but her low station in life had been acceptable, and in comparison it was actually more than most were used to. Elisaris took a several sharp breaths, trying to stem back her tears, as she recalled her rather good fortune at having secured such a good betrothal.

_Nelaros. _

They had written to each other in the months following their promising to each other, both half-frightened at the prospect at marrying a stranger. And yet, by the time they had met, it had hardly seemed strange at all. Her betrothed had been so kind, soft spoken and perhaps a bit shy, but Nelaros had been the one for her; she had realized it the moment he had recognized her and smiled.

_She would have no others after him_.

The tears came then, great rivulets wetting the dry of her cheeks until they dripped down her chin and onto the blanket Duncan had given her for sleeping.

_What must that Gray Warden think hearing her cry out like a small child?_

Muffling her soft sobbing with the blanket, Elisaris struggled with the memory of her fiancé, too soon taken away; the thoughts fracturing her further as she sought to make sense of events that had so changed her world and shattered her heart.

_Why had he died?_

_Flashback:_

It had been a long day and an even longer evening; Elisaris bit back a whimper of pain as she pulled her night clothes over her head and settled them around her. Every muscle ached from the work her mistress had asked this day; perhaps it was because the elf had asked for a few days without, a proverbial 'break' that was unheard of, at least to her mistress. And yet, feeling as awfully as she was now she couldn't truly remember why, sighing a little at her own confusion, the young woman merely shook her head.

_No doubt she would remember in the morning, when the sleep had eased her some. _

Groaning softly as she lowered herself to the softness of her bed, the elf woman sighed as the overworked muscles unclenched and softened with the warmth of her downy bed, falling almost instantly asleep as her pains were temporarily forgotten.

_She would worry about it in the morning…_

"Cousin…"

"Wake up cousin…"

A familiar voice was calling her out of the wonderfully inky blackness, and for a long time Elisaris chose to ignore it, content with the sated drowsiness of slumber.

"Wake up cousin!" A more forceful command, this time accompanied by a gentle shake, "Why are you still in bed? It's your big day!"

Opening sleep dulled eyes, the younger woman found herself confronted by the slowly sharpening image of her very excited best friend and relative.

"What…" Sitting upright, Elisaris rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes, "Why are you in my room, Shianni?"

A family member and best friend, Shianni had been like an older sister despite the similarity of their ages. Elisaris had always been a timid girl, ever since witnessing the death of her mother, and it was a condition which only her ginger haired cousin could ever understand, to talk and ease her when she suffered.

_Still that did not explain the early morning interruption…_

Surely Shianni had better things to do then wake her up on one of her few days of rest.

_Unless this had something to do with..._

Elisaris sighed as her thought trailed off unfinished. She still couldn't remember what was happening this weekend, she had been so busy working this week it would seem the knowledge had been all but crowded out.

"I begged your father to let me share the good news." Shianni seemed to almost be vibrating with energy, "You _do_ remember what today is…don't you?"

Elisaris had no choice but to respond blandly, "Summerday?"

"No you idiot!" Shianni sounded exasperated as she looked at the small woman still curled up in the thick tangle of bed sheets, "You're getting married today and Soris too!

_Well that explained what she had forgotten. _

Feeling foolish, Elisaris remained quiet as she listened to the rest of her cousin's news.

"That's what I came to tell you. Your groom, Nelaros, he's here early."

_Nelaros…_

The young woman felt her blush flare at his name. They had spent months writing to one another and she had found him to be an amiable man. And yet, she knew next to nothing about how he looked, though not a moment later Shianni seemed to answer the silent question, her lips twisting suddenly in a conspiratorial grin.

"I snuck a peek for you while you were sleeping. He's very handsome, so you have nothing to worry about in _that_ department. And from the look of him I don't think he'll have any problem with the _other_ celebration going on later on this evening."

Her suggestive look was only heightened by the near comical wiggle of her eyebrows. Elisaris blushed in response but could do little more, she had never been one to think about those sorts of things, but no doubt this night would change her perspective on things.

"Shianni…"

"Oh don't look so flustered cousin," the other woman was grinning broadly, "It is part of becoming an adult is it not? No sense in remaining a child all of your life is it? And what of those babies you so want, hmm?"

"I…umm…" Elisaris felt her face flush even deeper and looked down in embarrassment, "I suppose you have a point."

"Well then," Shianni smoothed the wrinkles in her dress with a last brilliant smile and wink, "you get up and find that other cousin of ours. Soris said he would be waiting for you outside…I need to go and find the other bridesmaids, so I'll see you later ok?"

Nodding meekly the young bride waited until she heard the door closing before getting out of bed, and crossing the cool wooden floors to pull out the lovely wedding dress that had once been belonged to her mother. She supposed that it was not so coincidental that she fit it properly, the light white and gold embroidered shift falling over her slim figure easily.

Apparently her father was of similar thought as his last comment to her before leaving reminded her of the gap her mother was never going to be able to fill, on this day in particular. The realization haunted her as she walked around the Alienage, lurking in her mind even as she managed a few favors for guests who could otherwise no attend the wedding.

It wasn't until she heard the familiar voice of her other cousin that she managed to think of anything else.

"Well, well… if it isn't my lucky cousin?"

Leaning idly on a familiar tree, the dark haired elf flicked an interested glance to one of the other female elves walking by before turning to fully address his cousin, his expression rueful.

"Care to celebrate the end of our independence together, hmm?"

He slung a lazy arm around her shoulders and grinned, no doubt he wanted to get drunk before the wedding. Elisaris merely smiled warmly as she guided him away from the various spirits that had been collected for the reception. She doubted his fiancé would appreciate finding him inebriated.

"Oh…I don't think it will be so bad Soris…"

"Easy for you to say," the brunette complained softly so as not to attract attention, "Apparently your groom is a dream come true. _My_ bride sounds like a dying mouse."

Elisaris winced a little, both at his comment and for the girl…no doubt this was a conversation better _not_ shared with the other women in the wedding party.

It was times like this that made her glad that she was lucky enough to have at least one of her parents living in the Alienage. Tradition had long since given the parents the responsibility of finding a suitable match for their children. Soris, who had no parents currently living at the Denerim Alienage, was forced to have the match that the _elder_ had decided would be best.

_She felt extremely lucky that she, at least, had gotten to know her betrothed through letters and the occasional small gift. _

"Anyway, let's introduce you to your dreamy betrothed before you say 'I do'."

He took the lead as he turned this way and that, past the general store and the platform already festively decorated for the nuptial celebrations. Pausing a moment to admire the delicate white and green flowers on the corner of the wedding stage, Elisaris had only time to catch the slightest sweet scent before she was once more tugged away.

And yet, not a moment later Soris stopped short, tightening his grasp on her as he kept her by his side.

"Wha-"

"LET GO OF ME! STOP PLEASE!"

It was Nola, a friend of Shianni's and one of the bridesmaids; behind her stood a well dressed human man, a noble. Elisaris felt something unpleasant shift in her stomach as she looked at the expression on his face, cruelty etched into every smug line.

"It's a party…isn't it? Grab a whore and have a good time," His laugh was unsavory as he watched the women in the party pale, "Savor the hunt boys – take this little elven wench here, so _young_ and _vulnerable_."

Elisaris couldn't hear Shianni's response, but by the deep look of rage that swept across the noble's features seemed clear enough. Indeed, the elf next to her was sent crashing to the ground a moment later, the human man striking him harshly as his eyes gazed wildly at the small crowd that had gathered.

And it was then that he laid eyes upon _her_, his eyes sharpening as he grew visibly interested. Elisaris felt her nausea increase with each step her took closer, and by the time he was upon her could barely manage to keep from being sick. Human men had always frightened her, the memory of her mother's death flashing before her eyes.

"What's this?" His eyes raked over her in undisguised lust, "Another lovely one to keep me company?"

Elisaris couldn't hide the way her hands trembled and so she clasped them before her, clenching them tightly until her delicate bones pressed her skin white.

"Please…let us just discuss this…" She could barely force the words past her frozen lips, but the terrified looks on the faces of her cousin and friends demanded she try.

"Perhaps you can invite her over for dinner?"

From the far corner of the clearing the other nobles lecherous grin suggest that much more would occur at this dinner party whether the company was willing or not. The fact that the leader of the group seemed to consider the suggestion only worked to frighten the young city elf all the more.

And yet, no sooner had she moved to take a step backwards when the nobleman turned away from her, just in time to crumple to the ground, the sound of an earthen mug shattering in the process.

Shianni, it seemed, had come to her rescue.

_But at what price? _

The timely appearance of her betrothed once the nobleman was taken away seemed to ease her, but her worried never fully disappeared from her mind this time, lingering on as a warning.

_Looking back on it now, Elisaris wondered if it had not been this particular moment that had inevitably turned the wheel of fate and cast her a path a of such pain and loss._

"Hello, you must Elisaris." His eyes were warm and appreciative though more protective than amorous as he met her startled look with a comforting smile.

"You are…Nelaros then," Elisaris couldn't help but return the gesture as her lips tilted upwards in a shy smile, his letters long since committed to memory. Months of writing made this man seem less a stranger and more a good friend. Perhaps eventually he would come to inhabit the role of lover, husband and father of her children as well. The sudden sense of intimacy between the two of them was strangely comfortable despite its unfamiliarity.

"Yes," the steady look he gave her made her flush prettily as he gently moved forward to brush a stray strand of hair away from her cheek and behind her delicately pointed ears. It was, under the circumstances, a very bold move, especially as his finger lingered a moment too long on the tip of her ear.

"I hope that I may become worthy of your affections once we are married." He had all but murmured the words, and yet Elisaris heard them just as clearly as if he had spoken to her clearly.

"A-as do I," the young woman stuttered but spoke earnestly, her lips still turned upwards as she smiled shyly back. The tenderness in his gaze seemed to suggest she had succeeded.

"I shall go then, if just to see you in a few moments." The smile on his lips vanished for a moment as he brushed them softly against her cheek, "Do not take so long my darling."

Then he was gone, walking away with Soris' fiancé as they both began their final preparations.

Elisaris had only a few moments more to deal with the appearance of a secondary human, a Gray Warden, before being sent away by the exasperated elder.

And then it was time, the wedding had begun.

"Friends and family," It was the elder who spoke first, as every ceremony began with his words, so too would this union begin the same way.

"Today we celebrate not only this joining, but also our bonds of kin and kind. We are free, but that was not always so. Andraste, the Maker's Prophet freed us from the bonds of slavery. As our community grows remember that our strength lies in commitment to tradition and to each other."

Smiling as she took in the Elder's words, Elisaris found herself meeting the steady gaze of her betrothed as he too grinned back at her, his fingers gently lacing with her own.

_Surely this match was to be one of more than just convenience._

"In the name of the Maker who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light…"

The sudden rumbling of voices drew the attention of everyone attending the wedding as three human noble men strode into view, their expressions haughty as they pushed elves out of their path.

It was the son of the arl, Lord Vaughn. He had returned, and this time there were armed guards with him.

"Milord! This is…an unexpected surprise…" Not bothering to hide her surprise, the young sister of the Chantry grew concerned, "Is everything-?"

"Sorry to interrupt Mother," The wicked laughter as he stepped onto the wide platform made all the elves in attendance flinch, knowing instinctively that all was not right.

"I'm…uh…having a party! And we're _dreadfully short of female guests_."

"Milord!" Never before had Elisaris heard the revered mother speak with such outrage, "This is a _wedding_!"

Watching their discussion unfurl, Elisaris felt unease curl in the pit of her stomach, a dread that something awful was about to occur. Taking a small shuffling step closer to Nelaros, the young bride did what she could to stave off her increasing feelings of illness, until the sudden bloom of warmth on her shoulder caught her attention, her fiancé pulling her nearer to him as his expression grew serious, almost worried.

"Now…we're here for a good time, aren't we boys?"

The laughs of agreement were more akin to the howl of wolves amidst the now deafening silence of the crowd.

"Let's take those two, the one in the tight dress and…where's the bitch that bottled me?"

Elisaris could do nothing as Shianni was brought to the nobleman's attention, her pleas for help at odds with the restraining hand Nelaros had place on her arm.

"Oh I'll enjoy taming her…"the easy amusement was gone from Vaughn's voice as he responded to Shianni's fiery rebuttal, the almost joking manner replaced with something sinister, more blatantly lecherous and cruel.

"And see the pretty bride…"

Elisaris felt herself grow pale as his darker gaze pinned her down, almost mentally undressing her as he lingered on the curves of her figure.

"Ah yes…such a _well formed_ little thing…"

Elisaris flinched as the lord moved to touch her face, the ringed appendage smacked away in the next moment as her betrothed answered the human male for her, his voice tight with anger.

"You villain, don't touch her!"

"Oh that's quite enough…" The almost casual dismissal was lost to the clear threat in his next words, "I'm sure we all want to avoid further…um, _unpleasantness_. Am I right, hmm?"

Looking behind him at the heavily armed guards with fearsome features, Elisaris could barely stand the implication, "Please…just don't hurt anyone."

The words seemed to charm the human man, amuse him to no end as he took a step closer, eying the smaller man against a second assault.

"Of course not my dear, this is a party!"

But no sooner had the Lord Vaughn finished speaking when Elisaris felt all of her senses explode in pain, her small cry of distress the only sound she made as the sharp impact of a physical blow struck her across the cheek and sent her out of her fiancé's protective hold. The world faded to black moments later amidst a sudden uproar of voices and though her last lingering thoughts were of her betrothed, it was Lord Vaughn's voice that range in her ears.

_Oh, we are going to have some fun…_

* * * * * * *

Elisaris woke on a rough stone floor, her head pounding as she opened her eyes to find herself looking at the ceiling.

"Oh! Thank the Maker you've come to. We were so worried!"

"Where…?" Elisaris groaned softly as she forced herself into a seated position, jarring her stiff muscles, and making her instantly more aware of the swollen corner of her lip, the side of her face; both throbbed.

"They locked us in here to wait until that _bastard_ is ready for us." Beside Shianni, one of the other elven women, wrung her hands fearfully and cast a frightened glance at the two imposing doors located at the far walls of their makeshift dungeon.

"There's nothing we can do but stay calm," Elisaris felt her timid nature recede for a moment as she smiled comfortingly to the woman around her.

"But we're five unarmed woman…" one of the women whispered back, her eyes much like the others, terrified.

"That means we can't do anything carelessly," Elisaris responded evenly despite her own growing feelings of despair, "We need to stay calm."

Struggling to her feet, the young bride paused before standing fully, the pain that shot through her legs a reminder of her weak elven body. They all had a tendency of bruising easily, but Elisaris doubted the lord Vaughn would care. If anything the notion would give him a sick sort of pleasure.

Human men tended to be the cruel towards elves, and the nobleman seemed worse than most.

Moving over to the two thick doors that had shut them in, Elisaris bent down to look at the small key-holes, her fingers probing the rest of the wooden surface as she tested for any sign of weakness, no matter how small. The lock itself was not complicated by any means, could even have been opened if she had brought along the small kit her mother had given to her upon completion of her training. Having said small bundle hidden at the bottom of her clothing trunk seemed a conspicuous shortfall.

_Nothing…not a single means to escape…_

Elisaris closed her eyes for a moment as if to try and stave off the inevitable conclusion that would come of their continued imprisonment. The wave of nausea at such an idea nearly made her sick where she stood. It was only Shianni's comforting hand on her shoulder that gave her the strength to walk back to the other women.

"Look…we'll do what they want…" their conversation was quickly beginning to sound like the mental conversation Elisaris had had with herself, "Then go home…and pretend this never happened."

The shared looks of terror and pale resignation only served to heighten the sense of despair.

And yet, it would seem Shianni once more refused to be subdued, her spirit unbroken as she shook her head in fervent rejection, "It'll be worse if we _don't_."

Remembering the words the human noble had directed as her best friend, Elisaris couldn't help but wonder if Shianni was playing directly into their hands. She shuddered against the thought but squeezed the hand that had maintained its comforting hold around her own.

_She wouldn't let them take her…_

The door opened then, the thick wood and metal monstrosity swinging slowly open to reveal a contingent of no less than six human knights. Feeling the women next to her tense, Elisaris couldn't help but mirror the sentiment, her eyes widening as the six heavily armed men moved to surround them.

"Stay away from us!"

Nola had spoken not a word to her since she had woken, but those four words killed her the moment they left her lips, the silvery arc of a sword striking her through before leaving her to collapse on the floor with a sickening gurgle.

The sudden, senseless, violence seemed to shock everyone. Indeed it was a while before even the soliders woke from their own stunned silence.

"Ah well…I suppose that's what happens when you try teaching whores some respect," the knight captain grinned easily as leaned forward, his eyes all but ignoring the bloody corpse that lay between them.

_There was nowhere they could run…_

"Now then…" Turning towards his men with an impatient air, the knight commander began to give his orders, "You two grab the little flower cowering in the corner."

Beside her, Elisaris watched as her cousin shrank back in sudden fear, the grip on her hand growing nearly painful as the pair of soldier came upon her, their expression one of amusement.

"D-don't touch her!"

Moving before she quite knew what she was doing, the young elven bride pushed her cousin behind her, her stance protective as she forced herself to face the overwhelming odds against her.

"Horace and I will take the homely bride and the drunk…and…wait…what is going on over there?"

Swallowing the fear she felt, Elisaris turned her head to look at the knight commander who was now on the approach, refusing to back down, even when his hand came to rest warningly against the sword at his side.

"Do you have something you want to say, wench?"

The words were condescending, but they weren't accompanied by the vicious sword strike she knew him capable of.

"I-I asked that you leave us alone. Let us go back to our Alienage…w-we have done nothing wrong!"

"You ungrateful whore," the sudden menace in his voice seemed to freeze the very blood in her veins; "You wound our lords pride, and then seek to dismiss the one gesture that would serve as your forgiveness. Have you elves no shame?!"

The heavy metal of his fist across her face had Elisaris on the floor before she even realized he sought to harm her, too dazed after the blow to understand the sudden flurry of movement that was occurring around her.

It was only when the human man addressed her again that she even attempted to muster the strength to focus on any one thing.

"You are lucky you are so desirous to our noble lord, or it would be your blood on this floor next," the human male was all but growling at her as his hand tightened around one of her friends, " You would do well to remember that when we come to get you later on."

Elisaris could only nod dumbly as she struggled to wipe the blood gushing from her nose and mouth, the trembling of her hand unable to fully staunch the flow of ruby from her face. The look of undiluted terror on her faces of her friends as they were led away second only to the tremendous agony of her own failing to protect them.

The bitterness nearly brought her to tears, the sharp inhale and deep shuddering breaths only barely managing to stem the tide and save her last shred of pride, frightened though she was.

She would rather die than let those _bastards_ see her cry.

"Just remember…no funny business…"Elisaris looked up to watch the two remaining guards conversing with their commander a final time, "He'll already be upset about her face…so don't try anything. You know our noble lord prefers his ladies…_fresh_."

The two men merely nodded meekly before turning towards her, their faces serious but not as cruel as the others had been. Clearly the violence of their leader was news even to these new recruits.

And yet, no sooner had the door begun to swing shut behind them when it swung open once more, crashing loudly against the stone wall as it pivoted too far.

Soris walked in a moment later, his expression sardonic as he seized up the two human and found them lacking.

"Uh…hello?"

The ensuing skirmish took less than a moment, as Soris had brought additional weapons with him, and seemed to weld them well enough despite being initially outnumbered. Elisaris had only to snatch up a longsword before she too found herself in a situation vastly improved from only minutes ago.

"They hurt you…didn't they?"

Elisaris flinched as her cousin touched the still tender swelling of her lips, and the side of her face she knew was turning all shades of purple and blue. No doubt her skin appeared almost dappled.

"It wasn't as bad as it could have been..." the young elven woman winced a little as she avoided his seeking gaze but mentioned nothing else.

"Well, I don't think Nelaros will be pleased either way."

Elisaris met Soris' rather pointed gaze as he lifted her chin to check her injuries, her eyes voicing the question she couldn't bring herself to ask.

_Where is he?_

"Nelaros is guarding the end of the hall…he's the reason we got this far. We'll figure this…situation…out with him. First though I'm going to have a look at those cuts on your face."

The young bride didn't bother to respond, taking in the information mutely as she revealed nothing beneath the smooth stone expression she projected. Soris had often complained that this particular talent was unnerving, but under the circumstances it was better than the alternative. Her cousin wasn't equipped to manage the emotional storm brewing within her.

_They had to get to Nelaros and then together rescue Shianni with the rest of the bridesmaids…they had to…_

"There, all done." Soris patted the unblemished tip of her chin and gave her a silly grin, "Let's get going."

The fight from small kitchen dungeon down the hall was more a collection of quick skirmishes than full on tactical combat. Elisaris had admittedly never fought in tandem with another before, though she found it of particular advantage that the guards had the tendency to head for her cousin first before attacking her. Perhaps being female was just as important a tool to a rogue as stabbing hapless soldiers in the back of the neck as they passed by.

_She should have realized sooner that all bad news came in pairs of threes; first the interruption by Vaughn at the wedding, the kidnapping and …_

Elisaris ran through the now empty stone hall her mind fixed on the man waiting for her, her betrothed, the one who had come to save her despite the danger.

The need to smile seemed to suddenly seize her as she reveled in the realization that truly her husband-to-be was the one for her. Without a question, without reservation would she go to him and tell hum thus.

_Nelaros was just around the corner…right…_

She opened the door just in time to see him fall, a thick crimson arc of blood splattering his murderers and branding them as killers.

_…dead…_

"Nelaros!"

Watching in horror as his tall form arced back from the impact; Elisaris screamed in near physical pain as he landed with a heavy thud against the flagstone.

"N-no…"

"See? I told you there'd be more. Elves run in packs, like rodents."

Unable to help herself, Elisaris took several staggering steps forwards as her eyes remained fixed on the body before her.

_They had killed him…they had…_

"Should we keep the knife-eared bitch alive?"

Something deep inside her broke then, shattered, never to truly be repaired again. Completed the moment she saw her beloved's blood pool around her feet, the sudden wrenching

"They killed our boys…she…"

The guard didn't have time to finish his sentence as his head fell from his shoulders, the rigid silhouette elven bride filling the space he had just vacated, her eyes all but black with fury and rage.

_She would kill them all…each and every one of them…the bastards_

And when at last he fight was over, it was not to the minor wounds that so marked the skin of her forearms that she turned, but to the body of her fiancé, pale and still as it lay in an ever expanding pool of liquid ruby.

"Nelaros?"

Elisaris could feel the tears falling from her eyes as surely as blood had spilled from his unmoving body.

_He was so still_.

Dropping hurriedly to her knees, the young elven woman pressed her hands desperately seeking a pulse she had known would not be found. Choking on sobs, the hours of emotional and physical distress came of a head as she took his head in her lap, blood stained hands caressing the still warm skin of his cheek.

"Nelaros…"

The tears had started…dripping silently down her cheeks as she bent over him.

"Nelaros, wake up my love…"

Part of her knew she wasn't making any sense, was talking to a man who had no hope of responding. And yet, Elisaris couldn't help the way she repeated his name once more, calling him tenderly as she kissed him softly.

"Y-you've saved me…"

She rocked his body gently as she continued to whisper to him softly, her hands trembling as she clenched them in his blood soaked clothing and held.

"…thank you for coming to rescue me…I…"

She couldn't stop the bone-deep shuddering that racked her body as she began to sob desperately, too distraught to look at Soris when he came to kneel beside her.

"…you rescued me…Nelaros…so…

Choking roughly against the tears Elisaris struggled to complete the thought, to say goodbye and move onwards. Shianni still had to be rescued, and she was wasting time. _And yet, to linger just a moment longer…_

"...good bye darling…know that I loved you…"

_…and that I will kill the man responsible for your death…a hundred times over…_

The remaining fighting was more akin to nightmare than reality.

The blood and grimaces of pain on the faces of the humans should have made her ill, the death mask on Vaughn's face should have frightened her, even before she took her sword to his still body again…and again…_and again…_

The mutilated corpse of the noble, the realization that Shianni was just as emotionally shattered as she, and the death sentence that no doubt awaited her…left the now widowed fiancé with nothing.

_Her Betrothed was dead by her own fault, her best friend had been raped because she had not been fast enough, and she was to never see either her father or beloved Alienage again unless she was sent back in a box to be buried. _

_What had happened to her wedding day? What had happened to her?_

End Flashback:

The soft pressure against her shoulder woke her from the meager rest she had managed. Half-framed in moonlight, the larger silhouette should have frightened her had she not closed herself so entirely to the sway of emotions, the memories still sharp enough to wound her once more.

"Duncan?"

They had traveled for miles together, and though she continued to be wary of him, she no longer flinched from his presence or that of any other human. But the fear and anger remained…lingered…though she did her best to ignore it. She hoped she would increase in its mastery over time, it was the only belief she now clung to. Duncan had given her a road to travel, and she would do so, bodily. Her fragile inner workings would remain frozen, untouched until she found some way to meet her end.

"We must go; the ruins are not more than a few hours away. If we are to reach it by midday then it's best if we leave now."

Her small, almost wan, smile cast the moon onto the thin scar on her cheek and the bruises that had now grew green and yellow as they healed, a memento of events she believed she would never stop regretting.

"Is this the place we are to meet the other Gray Wardens you were telling me about?"

"Yes. It is called Ostagar."

"Very well then…let us go."

_It had begun…_


	2. Chapter 2: Arrival

_AN: Alrighty, here's the second chapter for Arlathan :) Just wanted to give a big thank you to ZachMercurious for reviewing - and a shout out to those who put this story on their alerts/favorite list. It makes me happy to know the story is of some interest to people. As I said before, I expect I'll have one chapter out every week, and I DO plan to include every major even in the game though depending upon how tedious/time consuming that becomes content will change._

_Thanks again for taking the time to read (I don't own anything) and feel free to comment should it so strike your fancy :) _

_~Voi_

* * *

The noise from the war camp was near deafening after days of near perfect silence with Duncan. The scent of metal and thick leather hung heavy in the air, lingering amidst the all consuming smell of charcoal and great bonfires. And there were men, _human men_, everywhere.

She had met the King earlier, as so she had expected such things, and yet, perhaps not, for the sheer number of them made her head spin. The king himself had been kind, smiling encouragingly as he spoke to her, but she doubted such kindness would be universal; especially among the rougher crowd of warriors.

Ignoring the flicker of unease that passed through her, Elisaris walked quietly through the camp, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to take in the entire experience in as little time as possible. She had elected to stay away from the small group of mages that lay just behind two templar knights, the dual presence of magic and cold steel more than she was willing to confront at so early a time. Still, she couldn't help but cast curious glances backwards as the sudden glow of bright blue and shimmering white painted the surrounding landscape with otherworldly color. It was beautiful really, and yet unsettling, unnatural, a part of the world she had never before seen.

Taking comfort at the familiar gold band on her finger, Elisaris moved steadily onward until the soft keening of an injured animal drew her towards a collection of sturdy iron and wood pens.

They were…dogs, big ones. Leaning just her chin over the high enclosure, the young elven woman gazed wide-eyed at the heavily scarred but doubtlessly powerful creatures roaming their small pens in relative solidarity. The exception came from the middle pen, where one was whimpering piteously in between moments of fright, anger, and growling.

"Poor thing…" Moving to where the lone creature was being held, she knelt by the door and extended her hand through the wide gap half expecting the furry beast to shy away. Instead, she felt the bump of a large furry snout against her hand and the wet slobbery lick of a very friendly Mabari.

"Hello beautiful."

Grinning encouragingly, the elven woman pushed her other arm through and brushed the back of the hound, murmuring soft words of comfort as the creature began to shudder once again in pain.

"Ah…found a friend have you laddie?"

Kind though the voice was, the unexpected comment nearly made the young Tabris jump out of her skin, her hands closing reflexively on the hounds' flank in fear. Eyes darting upwards she met the warm gaze of a man who introduced himself as the war camp Master of the Hounds .

"I-I'm sorry." Elisaris apologized as she realized she must be interfering with his work, "I didn't mean to make myself a nuisance."

Moving to take her hands away from the cage the man merely smiled as he shook his head.

"Nothing to worry about, seems like this big guy has a caring for you so who am I to say otherwise?" His smile drooped a little, "Besides, the way he's been deteriorating I don't expect he'll be living for much longer."

"What do you mean?" The young city elf frowned slightly as she glanced once more at the dog nuzzling her hand, "Is he dying?"

She left little more than half an hour later promising to return with the appropriate flower from the Wilds, only to be stopped at the gate by a solitary guard and his hound. Despite her adamant pleas that such a small trip would only take a few minutes, the man continued to refuse her, mentioning that it would be Duncan alone who could give her such permission.

And of course, Duncan had left her not two hours ago with instruction to find the other Grey Warden; Alistair. The only problem was that she was sure was sure she had looked everywhere but had seen neither hide nor hair of any man named Alistair.

_Perhaps Alistair was an unfortunately named woman?_

The elven woman felt a bubble of amusement rise at the thought but promptly suppressed it with a frown. It wasn't right that she was making small jokes after all that had happened, she owed it to them to continue her period of mourning, however long it might take. No doubt Alistair was a man; she merely had to find him.

And so, redoubling her efforts, the lithe woman began to scour the camp anew, pausing when upon entering the oldest of the ruins she heard raised voices, which immediately brought her to explore the small alcove to her right.

"What is it now? Haven't the Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?" It was a man's voice, and by the sound of it he was severely irritated. Stepping cautiously through the open archway, the young Tabris got a better look at both figures, both men.

"I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, sir mage. She desires your presence."

Younger than the other men she had seen in camp, the male dressed in the armor of a knight seemed almost apologetic as he conferred his message to the obvious disgruntled older man, a mage if his comments and clothes were any indication.

"What her reverence desires is of no concern to me; I am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the _Kings'_ orders I might add."

"Should I have asked her to write a note?"

Asked the knight sardonically, his face suggesting he was seconds from smirking.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes…I was harassing you…by delivering a message."

The knight expressed the irony of his words, as he continued to listen to the other complain and whine. Elisaris couldn't understand why the mage was having such trouble with the younger man, but perhaps the two had met before and come to less than amiable conclusions of each other.

"Your glibness does you no credit."

"And here I was thinking we were getting along so well…I was even going to name one of my children after you. The _grumpy_ one."

Despite the situation and the fact that she was very much eavesdropping on this conversation, the young elven woman couldn't help but grin at this one joke. It felt strange, after so many days of being so hopelessly lost that this one smile would seem to help, at least a little. And yet, not a moment later, a wave of guilt swept through her and Elisaris felt her lips tremble in despair; _it was not right that she should feel so at ease so soon. _Indeed, so torn were her emotions that she all but missed the departure of the affronted mage, which left her with the strange, but seemingly benign human knight. Not that she had any idea on how she was going to deal with his peculiarities of course.

"Well…one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

If she hadn't known he was a man of strange humor she was sure she would have found him intellectually damaged. No other man had acted quite as he did, nor addressed her without any immediate commentary on her race. Still, she had no way of responding to his precious comment without sounding like a fool.

"Sorry, what?"

She flushed a little as the man drew nearer, his eyes glinting with mirth quite unlike the solemn expressions of those around camp, the sad expression she no doubt had adopted as well.

"Oh nothing!" he smiled charmingly and Elisaris couldn't help but puzzle over its strange familiarity, "Just trying to find a bright side to all this. Wait…we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you'd be another mage…"

Elisaris thought back to the mages she had seen around camp and then looked at her own clothing, _surely he was joking_.

"Wait, I know who you are. You're Duncan's new recruit, that elf from Denerim. I should have recognized you right away, I apologize. "

"It's…alright…" Elisaris didn't know what to make of his apology, no one have ever been sorry for _not_ recognizing her before, "Would you be Alistair?"

"Did Duncan mention me?" The knight looked at her ruefully, "Nothing bad I hope! As the junior member of the Order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

Not that knew what the _Joining_ was, but the elven woman nodded anyway, surprised at her own lack of anxiousness around this human man. Indeed, it had taken her an entire day to get used to Duncan.

"My name is Elisaris." She offered her hand in the common greeting and found it easily grasped by a much larger one, gentle despite its size.

"Right! That was the name."

He sounded absurdly pleased with her as he smiled brightly. The human man, _Alistair_, she amended as she continued to watch him, seemed indeed to be all over the place when it came to his conversations. It was a refreshing change; something she imagined characterized this not-so-ordinary man.

"You know, it just occurred to me…there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?"

She really had no idea, but managed as best an answer as she could.

"I supposed I can handle myself better than most?"

It sounded more like a question to her ears, but made the man-_Alistair_, grin, "I'm getting that impression"

The following silence seemed as to suggest he was considering her carefully before speaking once more.

"Anyhow, seeing as I've kept you here with all of my questions, it's probably best that we get back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started. "

She merely nodded silently before following him out of the ruins; no doubt he would know better where to find their leader than she.

As it was however, what she found was that _he_ had no sense of direction.

"I…think we've passed that old woman before…unless…maybe she moved?"

The hopeful tone in his voice nearly made her laugh once more.

"Maybe…if we walk _behind_ her…"

"Have you thought about asking for directions?" The elven woman suggested, as she watched him slowly circle the grounds once again.

"Directions? Bah! Grey Wardens don't need _directions_…" He puffed out his chest importantly as turned to give her a wink, "…why I know this camp like the back of my own – ack! "

The poor knight sailed unceremoniously into the air as he tripped over his own feet, going down in a clatter of metal plates and chainmail.

"Oh ouch… I think I pulled something…"

Elisaris just sighed; it looked like _she_ would be the one leading.

* * * * * * *

"You found Alistair did you? Good."

Finding Duncan had been significantly faster after the elven woman had taken control of the situation, a detail which, by the look on his face he was well aware of.

"I assume you're ready to make preparations, assuming of course that you're quite finished riling up mages, Alistair?"

The older man gave his charge a pointed look.

"What can I say?" The taller knight laughed slightly, "The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army."

Elisaris felt her lips twist into a small smile and felt another bolt of guilt pierce her subconscious. Sooner or later this duality of amusement and guilt was going to make her mad, but until then she'd have to bear it as best she could.

It seemed their mentor too was susceptible to Alistair's humor; his lips also quirking in amusement before he regained his outward composure and grew serious.

"She forced you to sass the mage did she?"

The older man sighed a little, "We cannot afford to antagonize anyone Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us."

"I apologize Duncan," for once the junior Grey Warden appeared genuinely sorry, "I'll go collect who we're missing."

He returned nearly an hour later, with two bulky human men, both of whom were grumbling about _someone's_ apparent lack of direction. The elven woman sympathized, but said nothing, feeling exceedingly small beside the newcomers and more than a little wary.

Alistair provided the introductions.

"This is Ser Jory, a knight from Redcliff. And this here is Daveth…a _fellow_ from Denerim."

Elisaris met their greetings with a nod, but lingered a moment on Daveth, wondering if she had ever come across him at the Alienage. Alistair's comment suggested he was less that scrupulous and that was, unfortunately, the sort of human beings one could find in and around her wall enclosed community.

"Now then." Duncan summoned their combined attention, "Since you're all here we can begin. You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit."

Elisaris wondered what use the blood could possibly be used for but remained silent; it would be unlike her to draw attention to herself. Instead she waited for Duncan to mention the second of the assigned tasks.

"Also, there was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them."

He turned to his junior officer, "Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can. The scrolls contain treaties promising support, treaties that may prove valuable in the days to come. Watch over your charges Alistair and return quickly and safely."

The younger man nodded, "We will."

"Then may the Maker watch over your path. I will see you when you return."

They all nodded, it was time to be off.

* * * * * * *

"Ugh!"

Groaning softly as she pulled her two swords from the back of a particularly smelly Hurlock, Elisaris felt her arms tremble a little from the strain. She may have been trained to wield weapons as a child, but years of relative peace meant she was unused striking such solid targets.

"That's all of them…let's keeping moving."

Alistair's voice was even despite the recent exertion, seemingly untouched by the effort that had been required to subdue the marauding band of darkspawn they had come upon. Part of her wanted to chalk it up to him being a human and therefore of stronger build than she. But to do such would be nothing more than an excuse, and she had seen well enough in the near constant fights that the pale-haired warden was more than capable of wielding sword and shield, almost masterful really. Elisaris frowned a bit in envy as she watched him slide his weapon back in the sheath, grinning good naturedly as he flexed his fingers and rolled one shoulder with practiced ease.

_She wished she could have that sort of power. _

If she remembered anything about the mother she had lost so long ago it was her advice that one should always be on the lookout for new skills, new talents to explore and adapt to one's own form of swordplay. The young elf doubted she could ever use the same sort of strength seemed inherent to the good-natured knight, but perhaps there would be some way to emulate the way he struck his opponents. It was worth a shot.

"Come on now! We're making good time, all that's left to find are those scrolls. The map says that it's right over…"

From over her shoulder Elisaris could hear both of her fellow Recruits groan, Alistair had yet to surrender the map to any of them, and as a result they had been wandering the same boggy pond ever since arriving in the Wilds.

On the bright side, Elisaris had managed to find the swamp flower for the wounded hound back at camp. But then, the way the four of them were traveling it seemed unlikely that they would ever make it back.

"Alistair…" The young Tabris hesitated before jogging beside the much taller human man, her voice carrying in the uncanny stillness of the Wilds.

"Hmmm?"

"Could I take a look at the map for a minute?"

She was trying to be as diplomatic as possible, but the small pout on his face suggested he knew exactly what she was doing.

"No you may not…" He held the map over his head and began to walk away, the map fluttering tauntingly in his large grip, "I know _exactly_ where we're headed, so all you have to do is-ack!"

For what was to be the second time that day Alistair tripped and fell to the mossy ground below, hands flailing as he tried and failed to keep balance.

"By the Maker, I swear if I fall one more time…"

Kneeling down to pick up the now slightly damp map, Elisaris found her attention suddenly drawn to the pile of intricately carved stones upon which the vellum had come to rest. Pulling the map aside, she left it there in the dirt, temporarily forgotten.

_What were these symbols?_ _And why did they seem familiar?_

Digging into the small pack at her side, the elven woman drew out a thin journal which they had confiscated from a deserted campsite a while ago.

_Where were those notes about…there!_

Holding up the book so that it was side by side with the pile of stones, Elisaris made one last check before beginning to read the copious notes left by the now dead scholar.

_So these were the stones of those called the Chasind…_

"Hey…"

Looking up the elven woman found herself surrounded by the three men, her breath catching suddenly in her throat as her eyes widened in fright.

_They had been all around her…jeering as they pushed her between them…she had been little more than a child at the time, but there were some things one didn't forget. _

Struggling not to panic Elisaris swallowed slowly and forced a smile, "Could I ask you three to take just a step back?"

Their easy compliance gave her the peace of mind to calm herself, _She was glad they did not any questions of her._

"I think I've found something."

* * * * * * *

An hour later, Elisaris found herself smiling contentedly. Having commandeered the map from Alistair after his unfortunate tumble, they had made good time, finding several more piles of Chasind Stones that promised to reveal the location of what she imagined would be a particularly useful trove of items.

"Now I hate to question you, oh fearless leader, but do you know where we're going?"

The young elf looked up from the map in her hands to find the older Grey Warden looking over her shoulder, quite close under the circumstances.

"Do you…have to be quite so close?" she wanted to know after a long moment of just looking at him.

"Hmm? Oh me? No I suppose not…I just wanted to see if I could absorb your amazing map-reading skills if I looked at from your point of view."

"You mean a foot closer to the ground?" Elisaris asked when she realized he was nearly bent in half trying to put his head on the same level as her own.

"Well…yeah…"

The elven woman choked back a laugh as she pulled away from him, her eyes sparkling with mirth, "Did it actually work?"

"No…but it was worth a try wasn't it?" He gave a silly smile, as he rubbed the back of his neck, "It probably a good thing I like following rather than leading huh?"

Elisaris merely grinned once more before nodding towards their other two companions, "Be sure to tell them that too, I think they'll appreciate the sentiment."

"Ha-ha. Very funny."

The young rogue laughed again, "I'm serious."

And then she turned around, sauntering through the swampy marsh towards the location that the treasure was supposed to be resting. They appeared in a small clearing only a moment later, the embers of an old fire still smoldering in the earthen center.

_Where was the…_

"Hold on just a second…" A hand clamped on her upper arm and stopped her short, "Let's wait until Alistair tells us if there are any darkspawn waiting for us."

"Should it matter?" Elisaris didn't like the idea of those evil creatures any more than the next person, _but fighting those _things_ was part of their test wasn't it?_

Walking more fully into towards the firelight the elven woman caught the dull glitter of metal beneath on the far log-seat by the fire.

_There it was._

The chest of the Chasind came out with ease despite the rather secret circumstances it had been hidden in. It look little more than a sharp jerk to pull it free from its dirt vault, and little more than a fiddle with the old lock before the box opened.

_Oh treasure…_ she hoped she might find something to suit her smaller frame, the heavy metal helmet and sword too large for her to use properly.

It wasn't until her hands touched the smooth of animal skin that the young Tabris paused in her search. Pulling out a thin slip of garment, scarcely half the thickness of her leather jerkin, the elven woman felt her eyes widening as she shook it out before her, looking in muted silence as she examined the symbols delicately embossed on the worked surface.

_Was this armor?_

Part of her wanted to believe it was some sort of joke, and yet she had heard enough stories in the war camp about the Chasind Folk that such garments came as little surprise. No doubt this scrap of cloth had more protective strength than what she was wearing right now.

_Still…_

Looking over her shoulder at the three men she tucked the dress under her arm and stood up flushing slightly.

_She might as well get this over with as soon as possible, that way they could all get used to it. _

"I…need to check this armor and see how it compares to what I have on. There are a few more pieces in the chest, but I think this one is perhaps meant for me."

"And just how do you know that?" Alistair's voice was teasing as he examined her smaller form with the cloth in her hands, "Does it come with a little card addressed to you, complete with little note from the Chasind?"

"Well…I suppose it doesn't…"

Elisaris shifted nervously but stayed where she was, she really didn't want to make this any more awkward than it would be.

"And they didn't embroider your name into the inside seams?"

"Well no…but..."

He had plucked the light blue-green fabric from her grasp not a moment later, unfurling it like a great banner of war flapping in the wind. Or would have, had the scrap of cloth not been so short and cut through.

"Oh…wow…" His grin quickly faded into one of flustered surprised, "You don't actually think they mean for you to wear this…do you?"

"I had been trying to tell you…" Elisaris responded, helplessly confused, as the human man continued to blush at the little garments, "But you wouldn't let me finish."

"Ah. Well. Here is your…" he flushed more deeply as it handed back, "…_garment_."

The elf woman flushed with equal embarrassment as she accepted the clothing back, "I…I'll be right back."

Then she was moving, disappearing behind the tree line, no doubt to change into the gift the Chasind had left. And yet, no sooner had Alistair finished picking through the rest of the contents in the old chest when her scream pierced the air, drawing all three men to their feet, though it was the Junior Grey Warden who acted first, long legs crossing the distance in a matter of seconds despite the heavy weight of the armor her carried.

_Two darkspawn, just inside the forest line…how could he have missed that?!_

He arrived to find the scene distinctively less than he expected. The lifeless bodies of two darkspawn lay face down in the thick underbrush, and there, pale though very much alive, stood the half-nude figure of the youngest Grey Warden recruit, her hand clutching a bloodied sword.

"Lady?"

Alistair turned to signal the other Initiates go back to the campfire, doubting at the young woman would be so predisposed to hosting an audience of other males in her undressed state. Indeed, she seems to be mortified at even his presence though he has not looked at her since first arriving at the scene.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't mean to scream…and you get you worried."

"You were attacked," Alistair glanced at her for a second, checking for injury before resuming his polite look away, "That's hardly something you ought to be apologizing for."

"O-oh…well you see, I didn't scream because of the darkspawn…I screamed because…" she hesitated for a moment before mumbling something under her breath, "Because I thought I saw a spider."

Unable to help himself, Alistair wheeled around to look at the small shivering elf, his expression incredulous, "You mean to tell me that you screamed _after_ you had killed the two darkspawn?"

"I…didn't want to make a big deal of it," her expression was flushed in embarrassment as she realized he was staring, "There were just two of them…and I didn't think that…"

"_Didn't_ _think_ is right…" Alistair continued to ignore her nudity as he gave a mighty sigh, "By the Maker, you could have been killed!"

"But…"

"You are _my_ responsibility when we're out here," Alistair met her gaze solidly, his brown eyes serious, "It's my job to make sure you stay safe, I…"

He trailed off as he seemed to realize she was still very much unclothed, "Oh. Well. I…sorry…I'll just… now that everything is taken care of… I'll just…"he flushed a deep scarlet and passed his hand over his face, "…go."

And he was, turning around quickly before trampling away, the tips of his ears red beneath the short cut of his hair.

Elisaris merely waited for him to be out of hearing distance before she sighed, _strange human indeed…_

* * * * * * *

"And that should be the last of them…"

Looking up from the small glass vial from which she was drinking, Elisaris eyed her fellow recruits noting that they too could use a bit of the healing as well. Alistair was fine and almost entirely unscathed, though more a result of his own mistake than by skill.

They had found the Grey Warden tower about an hour ago, and had planned their course of action to minimize their damages against more numerous foes. They were supposed to pair up, one rogue one knight, and then work together. And everything would have gone _fine_ if Alistair hadn't gone into battle following Ser Jory, the only _other_ knight in the party.

Elisaris winced a little as she turned her neck, brushing the bruised skin against the rough edge of her armor. She had worked well with Daveth; it had taken considerable effort to continue dodging the constant swing of tainted weaponry but two rogues had the benefit of spotting for each other.

"Hey…do you have any extras?"

Looking up, the elven woman smiled at the exhausted by accomplished looks on the faces of her fellow recruits, they had stopped just short of her seated position, mindful of her past request.

"Just a second," propping her leg up on the stone ledge before her, the young Tabris unbelted the pouch on her leg that contained the smaller vials of healing potion, handing out two.

"Elisaris…could you…maybe…put your leg down?"

Alistair, she realized as she looked up to meet his gaze, was looking embarrassed again, noting with amusement the delicate flush on his features. The poor guy had yet to get used to the Chasind armor with its thigh high boots and high cut dress.

"Did you need a potion too?" the city elf questioning just in case he had been struck between the plates of his armor where she couldn't see.

"No…I'm good…"

His eyes seemed to be looking any anything _but_ her; it earned a few snickers from their other male companions, but made the elven woman felt a similar flush cross her features.

She was slowly coming to know this human was one of a distinctly rare breed.

"Shall we go collect the scrolls then?"

What they found was less than what they had hoped, the crumbling pile of stones in much the same shape as the chest that was supposed to house the scrolls.

Picking through the debris of what had once been a chest, Elisaris felt her heart sink.

_The darkspawn must have taken the scrolls. The box had all but been crushed into pulp_.

"Nothing in there?"

Alistair's expression was grave as she turned to look at him, her own frown mirroring his own.

"Well well, what do we have here?"

The voice of a woman pierced the tense silence that had come with their discovery that the scrolls were gone.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder, a scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Turning to her right, Elisaris watched as a woman materialized amidst the fog, her golden eyes glowing unnaturally beneath the dark fringe of her eye lashes, "or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?

She crossed the distance between them like a predator, radiating danger and easy grace. The elven woman paused as her hand settled on the hilt of one of her short swords.

"What say you, hmm? Scavenger or Intruder?" The fact she was addressing the elven woman and not the others made it clear who she wished to answer. Elisaris almost wished it was someone else, her stomach twisting uncomfortably under the luminescent gaze.

_Scavenger or intruder…she doubted they fell into either category…unless the Wilds really were owned by someone…_

"I am neither. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"Tis a tower no longer, the Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." Still the woman refused to move her uncanny eyes from any other figure, continuing to pin the elven woman where she stood.

"I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where do they go?' I wondered, '_Why_ are they here?'" Moving slowly, the strange, dark haired beauty crossed the open courtyard to stand under an arch filled with thick bramble, uncaring of the thorny limbs that plucked at her garments.

"And now you disturb ashes none have touched in _so_ long. Why is that?"

The elven woman opened her mouth but no words issued forth, seemingly caught in the back of her throat.

"It's ok, don't answer her," Alistair seemed to understand the stricken look on Elisaris' face, "She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby."

The mysterious woman seemed amused.

"Oh?" Her hands animated her words, spreading wide as she mocked him, "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?!"

"Yes…" Alistair's face remained serious, "swooping is _bad_."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is!" Daveth spoke suddenly, his face uneasy as he glanced from elven companion to the woman he accused, "She'll turn us into toads."

"Witch of the wilds?" Again the words of her companions were met with sardonic amusement, "such idle fancies those legends. Have you no minds of your own?"

"You there," her finger stabbed the air to point at Elisaris, "Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

The young Tabris paused for a moment to gather herself; for though this mysterious 'witch' had said otherwise, she was frightened. Darkspawn were one thing, evil and vicious though they may be, _magic_ on the other hand…Elisaris shuddered but forced herself to comply, there would be no benefit in being rude to this strange woman. She would have to tread carefully.

"I am Elisaris. A pleasure to meet you."

"Now that is a proper, _civil_, greeting even here in the Wilds," the sudden smile on the strangers' face so changed her appearance that the elven woman blinked several times just to be sure, "You may call me Morrigan."

_Morrigan…not 'Witch of the Wilds'…_

Elisaris didn't know whether to laugh at herself for overreacting or throttle Daveth for even suggesting such a thing.

"Shall I guess your purpose?" Morrigan was talking again, though this time her eyes were focused not the elven maid but on Alistair, "You sought something in that chest. Something that is here no longer?"

Her ruse fooled no one, and it was very apparent the mysterious _Morrigan_ knew precisely what they sought.

"Here no longer?" Alistair's eyes narrowed in accusation, "You stole them, didn't you? You're come kind of sneaky…witch-thief!"

Elisaris snorted as she struggled not to laugh. _Leave it up to Alistair to completely ruin the seriousness of their situation. _

Morrigan, it would seem, felt the same.

"How every _eloquent_ of you, and how _does_ one steal from dead men?"

"Easily it seems." Alistair muttered under his breath, "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them."

"I will _not_," the other woman crossed her arms, "for it was not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish, _I am not threatened._"

Elisaris doubted Morrigan had anything to gain from lying to them, but at the same time there was little doubt the woman knew more than she was immediately telling them. She had managed to get her name the first time; she would have to try asking Morrigan a question this time.

"Then who removed them?"

It would seem she asked the right question.

"T'was my mother in fact."

Elisaris nodded readily, w_ell that made sense then didn't it_?

"Can you take us to her?"

"Ah…there is a sensible request." Morrigan laughed a little, "I like you."

The elven woman smiled in response, the other woman was deceptively kinder than she first appeared.

"I'd be careful," Alistair cautioned as he sidled up to her, eying her smile with concern, "First it's 'I like you' but then 'zap' frog time!"

"She'll put us all in the pot she will," Daveth worried fretfully, the intimidating cutthroat reduced to frightened boy, "Just you watch!"

Ser Jory, it would seem had had enough of the panicked soothsaying as well, "Well, if the pots warmer than this forest it'll be a nice change."

"Follow me then," Morrigan commanded as she turned to go, "If it pleases you."

Elisaris wasn't sure if such action was too much risk too soon, but as the dark haired woman turned to leave the elven maid was left with little choice.

"Let's go."

* * * * * * *

They arrived at a surprisingly modest house after several long minutes of walking through a misty bog and marsh labyrinth. Though the elven woman prided herself at being particularly talented with direction, she doubted that even she would be able to find this particular abode without assistance.

"Greeting mother, I bring before you four Grey Wardens to-"

"I see them girl," the smaller woman ground out, her sharp eyes moving from face to face as she examined them, "Hmm…much as I expected."

"Are we supposed to believe that you were expecting us?"

Alistair's skepticism with met with an uncommon nonchalance.

"You are required to do nothing, least of all _believe_. Shut one's eyes tightly or open one's arms wide, either way one's a fool."

"She's a witch I tell you! We shouldn't be talking to her!" Still Daveth bleated fearfully from his position at the back of the party, though Elisaris could not make out his expression behind her.

"Quiet, Daveth!" Ser Jory was beginning to sound nervous, "If she's really a witch do you want to make her mad?"

"There's a smart lad!" It would seem the sardonic humor was inherited from her mother, "Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things. But it is not I who decides. Believe what you will."

The dark golden eyes shifted suddenly to focus on the elven maid, quiet though she had been.

"And what of you, does your elven mind give you a different viewpoint? What do _you_ believe?"

"I…I'm not sure what to believe," Elisaris answered honestly, her eyes flickering from old woman to the mossy ground. She had managed Morrigan well enough, but _this_ woman was incontestably more powerful and therefore more dangerous than her daughter.

"A statement that posses more wisdom than it implies," Morrigans' mother tapped her hand pointedly, "Be always aware…or is it oblivious…can never remember…"

The woman seemed, for a moment at least, suddenly more real as she shrugged off her forgetful mind, the image lost with her next warning.

"So much about you is uncertain, and yet, I believe..." she trailed off again as if surprised with herself, "Do I? Why…it seems I do."

"So…this…" Alistair's voice sounded skeptical, "Is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds…"

"Witch of the Wilds huh?" it was the older woman who scoffed at the title, "Morrigan must have told you that…she fancies such tales, though she would _never_ admit it…oh how she dances under the moon."

Her sudden laugh echoed despite the openness of their surroundings.

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, mother." Morrigan seemed unfazed by the strange behavior of her parent, at ease with the seemingly disjointed pattern of her speech.

"True. They came for their treaties, yes?" She turned away to rummage around behind her, "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. _I_ have _protected_ these."

A small sheaf of papers passed from wrinkled hands into the more youthful ones of the elven rogue.

"You! Oh…" Alistair quieted suddenly, "You protected them." He sounded stunned.

"And why not?" The steel haired woman seemed unsurprised, "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blights' threat is greater than they realize."

The words produced a deep foreboding for the elven woman, "What do you mean 'the threat is greater than they realize'?"

"Either the threat is more or they realize less, _or_ perhaps the threat is nothing…" the answer was more evasive than not, lost in another strange laugh, "or perhaps they _realize_ nothing!"

She quieted again after a moment, her expression amused, "Oh…do not mind me," she laughed again, "You _have_ what you came for."

"Time for you to go then," her daughter agreed nodding back towards the way that had come.

"Do not be ridiculous girl, there are your guests!"

"Oh…" the younger witch sounded less than pleased, "very well, I will show you out of the woods. Follow me…"

* * * * * * *

It was dark by the time they emerged from the Wilds, their pace a little ragged by otherwise strong. The guard at the gate seemed surprised they had managed to return without major injury, but Elisaris left the conversing up to Alistair and the others while she went to deliver the flower she had promised to the Master of the Hounds.

The news she received was good, and as she bid both man and furry beast farewell, Elisaris couldn't help the way the smile lingered on her lips.

_She was glad to have helped them…_

The meeting with Duncan began the moment she rejoined the others by the ever brilliant camp fire.

"So, you've returned from the Wilds. Have you been successful?" No doubt the question was meant to be rhetorical but she responded anyway.

"We have."

"Good," the oldest Grey Warden nodded, "I've had the Circle mages preparing. With the blood you've retrieved we can begin the Joining immediately."

The elven woman hesitated before turning to Alistair, "Maybe we should tell him about Morrigan and her Mother?"

The knight nodded, detailing their surprise encounter with the so called Witch of the Wilds and her daughter.

"Were they wilder folk?" Duncan wanted to know once the younger man had finished his recount.

"I don't think so…they might be apostates, mages hiding from the Chantry."

"I know you were once a Templar, Alistair, but Chantry business is not ours. We have the scrolls let's focus on the Joining."

"Yes Duncan."

"So you will tell us about this ritual?" Elisaris inquired as both men fell into silence.

"I will not lie; the Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are." Duncan cast a meaningful glance at all three recruits, "Fate may decree you pay your price now rather than later."

His rather diplomatic speech seemed to rather beat around the bush, Elisaris sought to clarify the situation just a little.

"You're saying this ritual can kill us?"

"As can any darkspawn you may face in battle," came the even reply, "You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you had a chance to survive."

"Well, let's go then." It seemed Daveth had found his courage now that the Wilds were behind the guard-protected gate, "I'm anxious to see this Joining now."

Ser Jory murmured in agreement.

Duncan nodded in acknowledgement of the two men, "Very well, then let us begin. Alistair take them to the old temple."


	3. Chapter 3: Sacrifice

AN: So SO sorry for the wait on this chapter - between Finals and crazy holiday work schedule I've had nearly no time to write, so I apoligize for taking so long. As you can probably tell this chapter if quite lengthy, so I hope that makes up for the wait...at least a little bit.

Thanks once more to the people who reviewed and also a shout out to those who added this little fic to their favorites :) It means a lot to me!

Enjoy this chapter - and thanks again! ~Voi

* * *

_"No!" _

_There were voices in her ears but she couldn't tell who was speaking, could not tell where she was amidst the blackness that surrounded her. _

_"I hope that I may become worthy of your affections once we are married."_

_She recognized that voice, those words. Her heart ached, as if the price of remembering such tender words was to conjure the image of his death. _

_"You ask too much!"_

_Ser Jory, yet another voice familiar to her though she could not remember why it was he was yelling, why he sounded so desperate. _

_"A-as do I." _

_Another image of her betrothed appeared in her mind though this one kind. He looked peaceful, if not a little exasperated to see her. Perhaps she was not supposed to meet him yet?_

_"There is no honor in this!"_

_There was the knight again…but why was he so angry, the sword in his hand poised to strike. Why couldn't she remember what had happened? _

_"I shall go then, if just to see you in a few moments. Do not take so long my darling."_

_His smile was as gentle as she remembered it, calm, as he sat upon a grassy knoll beneath blue skies; free. And then the sky darkened, Nelaros with it, replaced instead by the great winged form of a black monstrosity, a dragon. _

Elisaris opened her eyes to find two darkly blurry figures standing over her, figures that slowly sharpened into those of Duncan and Alistair. Hunched over her, their expressions grave though they nodded slightly as if in relief.

"It is finished; welcome."

"Two more deaths" Alistair sighed heavily as he gave her a long look, studying her for injury, before getting to his feet, "In my Joining only one of us died. But it was _horrible_," he shook his head as if to rid himself of the memory, "I'm glad at least one of you made it through."

"How do you feel?"

Elisaris thought Duncan sounded suddenly aged after the recently transpired events but said nothing, responding as best she could. The elven maiden didn't think that her dreams, the memory of her betrothed in particular, were of any use to Duncan in describing her current condition and so she merely nodded, not bothering to ask about the death of the two other recruits. Duncan _had_ said that such a ceremony came with its own costs.

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair wanted to know, "I had terrible dreams after my Joining."

His confession seemed to suddenly ease a deep seated tension that Elisaris herself had not recognized.

_So she was not alone after all…_

"Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn as we all do," Duncan clasped her shoulder as he pulled her to her feet, "That and many other things can be explained in the months to come."

Pointing in the direction of the makeshift barracks, the older warden turned to the opposite direction, "Take some time. When you are ready, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king." His hand gestured briefly to the old ruins where she had first met Alistair, "Please attend as soon as you're able."

The new Grey Warden merely nodded once more, her mind focused on the small collection of sleeping tents she had walked by when she had first entered the camp.

_She really did desperately need to rest, just for a bit. _

"Oh wait up!" Alistair's hand closed gently around her elbow, catching her before she could fully disappear into her tent. Strange, but she hadn't realized his hands would be so warm.

"There's one last part to your Joining." The much taller man looked down at her with a small smile, "We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant, something to remind us… of the ones who didn't make it this far. This is for you."

Holding out his hand in offering, the pair seemed to pause momentarily in the soft purple shadows of the tent.

Her fingers all but whispered over his palm as she plucked the necklace from his open hand, and though she wasn't sure why, her cheeks flushed as well.

"Thank you."

The human man smiled kindly before giving a conspiratorial wink, "I'll see you after the meeting with Duncan. Sleep well, Elisaris_."_

And then he was gone, leaving the elven woman to deal with emotions she knew were far too confusing for her to readily deal with. Indeed, it was only when she finally lay upon her meager mattress in the deep of night that she even attempted to focus more sharply on the younger of the men she had met that day.

_Alistair…_The young elf woman lay down and looked unseeingly at the tall canopy of her tent, _He had been surprisingly kind…for a human…strange…and easily worried…but…something about him made her feel…better…which was wrong. _

_Horribly. _

_Terribly. _

_Wrong. _

Elisaris couldn't begin to describe how much the knowledge bothered her, scraped at her nerves and kept her up that evening despite her own insistence that everything was alright. Her guilt for the fun she had found today an awful burden as she recalled the peace of mind she achieved earlier that day, no matter how fleeting.

_Was she not supposed to be mourning? Was she truly so unfaithful that she would abandon the memory of her betrothed in little more than a week?_

Shame swamped her as she continued to lay in silence.

_What sort of woman was she anyway who would so quickly move on?_

Sighing deeply, Elisaris pressed the palms of her hands over her eyes. She felt like a child again, and such experiences were less than pleasant when surrounded by an entire camp of unknowns. She wished Shianni were here with her now, perhaps the two of them could have found something to laugh over. Then again…the warm metal on her ring finger bit into the skin as she moved her hands onto her forehead reminding her with stabbing clarity of all she had lost.

_She was just being silly…she had to be. And it was, no doubt, the strangeness of that one human man that had created so strange a feeling within herself._

Giving her wedding ring one last glance, the elven maid sighed.

_Just what sort of woman was she?_

* * * * * * *

"You heard the plan," Duncan stood framed by the deep fiery orange glow of the camp, "You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and make sure the beacon is lit."

"What? I won't be in the battle?"

Elisaris had wondered why Alistair had been missing from the meeting with the King, but Duncan had said something about sending the other man to help ready the other Grey Wardens. The elven woman would have gladly traded places, as the tension between Cailan and his advisor, Loghain had made for a very tense discussion of tactics and military planning from which Elisaris was exempt.

"This is by the Kings' personal request Alistair. If the Beacon is not lit Teryn Logains' men won't know when to charge."

"So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch just in case, right?" The younger man sounded cynical and more than a little bit upset. He had told her while they were in the Wilds of his opinion of the King, it had been less that flattering; Elisaris doubted this particular order, one which barred Alistair from direct combat, ingratiated the blond royal any further.

"We will signal you when the time is right," Duncan promised patiently, ignoring the look of frustration that had settled over the other man, "Alistair will know what to look for. You will have less than an hour to get through the tower, so be ready."

The older Warden smiled, an expression that suddenly reminded Elisaris of her father, "I must go now and join the others. From here you two are on your own."

His hand came to settle on her shoulder, for what would be the last time.

"Remember, you are both Grey Wardens, I expect you to be worthy of that title."

She tried to find the right words to wish him well, but couldn't. In the end it was to be the human knight who would gave their final goodbye.

"Duncan." Alistair's expression was unhappy but resolute, "May the Maker watch over you."

The other man nodded only once before turning to the battlefield before them, "May the Maker watch over us all."

And then the battle had begun.

Standing high on a wall overlooking the valley, Elisaris could see the amassed troops of both Ferelden and the darkspawn as they took to the killing field. And yet, despite the size of both groups of warriors, it was the opposing force that made the elven woman so terribly uncomfortable. Twisted flesh further contorted by the sharp shadows of the forests, the throbbing bodies of the horde seemed truly nightmarish.

_How had the King been able to repel such a horrific enemy time and time again?_

She was having a hard time envisioning the smiling nobleman as capable to killing anything, let along leading forces that had repelled these dark intruders more than once.

_He had been so lighthearted…about everything…very much like Alistair…_Elisaris paused her visual perusal as she caught sight of familiar golden armor, _did he truly believe that leading the charge was not dangerous for his person? What were to happen if…_

An image of Alistair in the place of the king fashed before her eyes, _covered in blood as he led the troops of Ferelden across the field…towards the shadowy darkness…_

"Hey," the familiar resonance of a friendly voice reached her ears a moment before she felt her shoulder brush his side, "Are you alright? You look…pale."

Having been surprised from her thoughts, the elf had all but physically jerked at the unexpected contact; elves were not particularly physical creatures, and so every stray bit of contact seemed to amplify her already uneasy condition.

"I'm fine…" Wrapping her arms around herself in a protective hug, the elven maid returned her gaze once more to the shadowy mass looming on the horizon, "but…there are _a lot_ of darkspawn out there."

The words couldn't have been more than a whisper but he seemed to hear them well enough. Such a strangely enigmatic woman, this elf from Denerim; Alistair watched as her expression grew steadily more hunted, like an animal knowing a predator was close.

_Was she frightened?_

She had survived the Joining well enough, and had been remarkably composed afterwards. Still, the ritual _had_ been known to drive some to the very edges of sanity, the dreams just one manifestation of the mental strain left on the survivors.

"Hey…" nudging her lightly with his shoulder, the human knight eased a brilliant smile onto his lips and tried to undo the oppressive nature that seemed to surround them both, "Perhaps we can ask Duncan to save a couple for you…but then, only if you're nice to me. Duncan _did_ say I was in charge again and _look_…he gave _me _the map."

Waving the piece of velum in comedic style, the ex-templar managed to make his companion tilt her lips in a smile, if albeit a small one. It died far too quickly. And when the moment of happiness faded the haunted look returned, as if she had just remembered something awful. It was only when her sword-hand moved to gently touch the ring on her finger that Alistair even realized it was there, little more than a dull sparkle amidst the darkness.

Strange that despite all he had told her, answering her patient questions, it took a physical item to alert him to the deep chasm of _nothing_ he knew about her.

_Did she have a husband, a family? Was he out there now, fighting in the valley below while she was forced to watch from afar, much like him? _

It would certainly explain the terribly strained expression her face, the tense set of her shoulders and way her lip seemed to tremble. Duncan had mentioned only that she had come from Denerim; it would seem that any other information would have to come from his own inquiry.

_It made him uncomfortable to see such terribly aged expression on a woman little younger than himself, _and though Alistair did his best treat her as the capable woman he knew she was, the expression of helplessness was one that seemed to draw out every protective instinct he possessed.

"Come on, we have to get going."

His casual hand on her shoulder was met with an almost imperceptible flinch, and though he didn't turn in time to see the stark panic on her face, the guilt struck him with all the bludgeoning force of a mace.

"I…I'm sorry…"

He couldn't quite understand why he was apologizing, but something told him to, driving the words past his lips, as he looked at her diminutive form, clad in the old Chasind outfit she had found.

"What are you apologizing for?" Her voice was light but her eyes continued to flicker with a depth unfathomable to the human man.

"Oh…well…uh…just now…I thought that…" Alistair stumbled over his words, feeling suddenly foolish.

_She was a grown woman, not a silly child…he didn't have to baby her. _

"I'm fine," she moved around him as she easily cut him off. And though her voice continued to be light it was only the slow uncurling of her hands at her side that suggested that whatever tension between them had truly passed.

It was only when the great stone bridge leading to the Tower of Ishal lay before them, ablaze with fire and a riot of movement that she spoke to him again, her expression suddenly more serious though the smile on her lips when she turned to look at him was as real as it was brief.

"Thank you."

The poor templar had no idea what he had done _this_ time.

* * * * * * *

"Help! Help, by the Maker it's a disaster!"

The line was one Elisaris had heard several times before in the Alienage, but never once had it accompanied the image of armor clad soldier as he ran from the tower he had been charged to protect.

_Something was going terribly wrong…_

The dirt and gouges in his armor didn't obscure that fact that the man was one of Teyrn Loghains' soldiers; his expression desperate as he ran to meet them. Behind him a mage of the circle followed, his long robes streaked with the remnants of blood and fire.

"You…you're Grey Wardens aren't you?" His relief was nearly palpable as he bent forward desperately trying to draw breathe into burning lungs, "The tower, it's been taken."

Feeling her eyes widen in disbelief, the elven woman looked at her companion and found the human knight at the same loss for words.

"What are you talking about man?"Alistair's voice was clear despite the surrounding cacophony of sound, "Taken how?"

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers, they're _everywhere._ Most of our men are dead."

A wave of terror seemed to temporarily engulf the city elf, and as Elisaris struggled not to give any outward sign of her distress she could feel rather than see her face pale as the blood left her face.

"It's alright, we were sent to protect the tower, now we just have a slight change of plan." Alistair turned to face her and leaned down slightly for that they were eye level, "We have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves. Are you ready?"

Instead of responding to his question, Elisaris neatly pulled the rolled map from his side pouch and waved it in front of his nose, "You know I think I'll take this now…you already know you'd have gotten us lost in that tower _before_ the darkspawn came…no sense in making our trip any harder."

The human knight merely grinned down at her as he straightened to his full height, "Very well than oh great reader of the strange floppy maps, lead the way!"

Grasping the thin sheet carefully in her thin hands, the elven woman managed a shaky smile before turning towards the tall specter of the tower, reminding herself that she had nothing to lose anymore, her life as she knew it was gone.

_She was a Grey Warden now, and everything, even her life, belonged to this battle…so why was it that her hands continued to tremble?_

* * * * * * *

"Alright…last floor. Any last equipment checks?"

Elisaris straightened from examining the map and wiped the grime from her hands on the soft fabric of her armor, promising herself a hot bath should she survive the rest of the evening. Indeed, she looked as if a shower would do her some good, her hair all but plastered to her forehead from sweat and her body splashed with generous amounts of darkspawn blood, all of which stunk. Her companions were faired similarly. And though they had been horribly outnumbered their path through the tower had resulted in surprising little injury.

Touching the shallow cut on her arm the elven woman was pleased to find the bleeding had not soaked through the bandage Alistair had forced on her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his help, but if it has been up to her she would have left the wound as it was, the gauze made is hard to flex her arm when she was using dual swords.

"No? Let's go light the beacon then…"

She turned to the last of the arched doors before swaying suddenly, slumping against the door for a moment.

"Elisaris?"

Opening her eyes, the elven woman blinked several times in confusion before looking up at the ex-templar to hover just out of reach, his expression worried for the second time in one evening. _She was getting tired of constantly drawing attention to herself…_

"Yes?" Pushing away from the door she have a slight smile, "I was just wondering if I could hear anything through the door…those genlocks scared me last time; I didn't want to repeat the experience."

"Oh…right…checking the door," her fellow Grey Warden didn't know whether to believe her or not, and so settled for one last visual inspection before deciding that nothing appeared wrong.

"Are you ready then?"

The elven woman merely smiled, "Let's go," and then she pushed the great door open, to reveal what waited for them.

A creature of nightmares, with vicious twisting horns and at least twice the height of her fellow warden, it _towered_ over the awful pile of corpses it left in its wake and reeked of the carnage it wore like the belt around its waist.

Not even the other darkspawn were safe from its' lust for violence, for one of the skulls it wore was of its own kind. Elisaris felt her throat convulse and she struggled to keep the bile down, her hand coming to rest at the base of her neck, massaging the straining muscled. She would _not_ be sick now, even if the image of the darkspawn cannibalism didn't make her as close to violently ill as she had ever been.

"Watch those fists," Alistair's voice was a low whisper, his eyes carefully examining the creature that stood so monstrously at the other side of the tower dais, "He doesn't seem particularly bright, but you know what they say about brute strength…"

Elisaris had never actually heard any saying about brute strength, but she doubted she needed to be told twice.

_Its hands looked large enough to break her in half with just one of its fingers. _

"Alright, here goes…"

And then the attack began. A flurry of sword, dagger, arrow and fire exploding through the air as the four began the fight in earnest.

_They _had_ to light that beacon. _

* * * * * * *

They had been locked in combat for what felt like years, though perhaps it had only been a collection of long minutes. Elisaris had already lost one lesser dagger in the fight, and had been forced to substitute another. The cuts she had sustained thus far were by and large superficial, but the few that _weren't_…the elven woman grit her teeth and forced herself to move on.

_Things had a tendency of getting worse before getting better…no sense in complaining now. _

Beside her, Alistair and their two other companions all seemed to be of the mindset, pausing only for a moment to heal before rushing forward once more.

For all of their attacking, the ogre remained virtually unchanged.

One vial of poison, the result of a last minute purchase from the quartermaster, was used with little effect. Elisaris was well versed enough in _that_ particular art form to know that the lack of reaction was a result of dosage and not actually any failing of the poison itself.

She had to use another vial, soon, if she meant to accelerate the weakening that would, no doubt, help augment the damage caused the evil monstrosity.

But it had been then, when she had turned to remove the second vial of poison for her blade that the awful sound of bone crunching crackled through the air.

It was the Circle mage.

Somehow, someway he had gotten too close, and now the Ogre held him firmly in his grasp, its face alight with unholy pleasure as it slowly began to squeeze.

_By the Maker…how the mage screamed..._

_I_t was only when the tower guard sent an arrow through the other mans throat that the terrible shrieking stopped, its echoed form hanging in the air for a moment longer.

And then she was moving, a flurry of chainmail and rough leather, as she crossed the space between beast and surviving adventurers, her expression grim as she dodged one heavy fist and then another.

As fate would have it, the damage came not from the fists themselves but from the terrible spiked armor the ogre had laced over its mighty body. The thick points cut jagged lines in her armor, and then skin, whenever she hesitated for a split-second too long. Her swords _were_ getting through, but at the rate that she was exchanging blows with the much larger monster, there was little doubt that _she_ would be the first to die.

_"Maker damn it!"_

Fear had long since dissolved into the tense sense of will keeping her alert, _keeping her alive_. Snarling in frustration, Elisaris sprung backwards, temporarily disengaging from combat to rip a healing potion from her pack; the last one she had.

_They couldn't last much longer like this. _

As if to prove her point, the wet splattering of blood from her shoulder seemed little effected by the small red vial she had just used. She remained steady on her feet, _for now_.

"Elisaris!"

Turning just in time, the young rogue grunted a little as she threw herself to the side, avoiding the large bolder that rocketed through the air towards her. And when she managed to change her haphazard jump into a controlled roll, it was because that her mothers' training had somehow remained with her, sunk deep into her muscle memory despite the years.

"You ok?"

Alistair appeared at her elbow, his eyes bright despite the shadow cast by the heavy metal helm he wore.

"I'm all out of healing potion."

Breathing as hard as she was, the grim expression on his face suggested that his situation was very much the same.

"We _need_ a plan;" he shifted the shield in his grip, "I don't think any of us can weather more than three, maybe four, solid hits before we are in _serious_ trouble."

Eyes darting from templar to tower guard suggested that whatever plan they decided, the brunt of the damage would be on the two men. She had watched their opponent long enough to know how the ogre chose its target; the heavily armored ex-templar at her side was a big enough threat to draw its full attention.

_Well, there was nothing like playing a game of distraction_.

Elisaris smiled slowly as the plan took shape in her mind, "I have an idea…"

* * * * * * *

"Almost there…"

Coughing as she cleared her throat, the elven rogue managed a grim smile before forcing her sword deeper into the back of the massive creature that writhed angrily beneath her. She doubted that her blade was causing much damage on its own, but the poison was beginning to work, of _that_ she was sure.

"ELISARIS!"

Stumbling backwards as her sword suddenly slid free of the tough muscle, the elven woman scrambled to the side once more as her eyes searched frantically for the other warden.

_He was covered in blood. _

"Alistair?!"

There was a heavy body suddenly thrust into her arms, a body that smelled of heavy leather and sweat, the tower guard.

"Get him to safety!" The older warden all but barked the orders as she strained under the weight, "I'll hold this position until you get back, go _fast_."

She did. And when she had managed to secure a few crates as a seat, it was only with the barest consideration for his comfort that she spoke to the Tower Guard for whom she could do nothing else.

_It was unlikely he would survive for much longer._

"Will you be ok if I leave you here?"

His pained gasp was hardly the answer she wanted, but there was little else she could do – she _had_ to get back to Alistair, she didn't want to think about the consequences if she took too long.

_Didn't want to think why her heart seemed to suddenly remember to _feel_ despite the terrible chaos going on around her. _

"Here, take this."

The injury kit was missing a few parts, but she hoped there might be some sort of gauze the other could use. Already she was administering what little healing ointment on his wounds, and coaxing him to drink the few drops of the sedative in the kit.

"I…need to go…but do you need anything else?"

The man merely shook his head, mumbling incoherently, his eyes already glassy from the herbs. Elisaris merely watched silently as the tension seemed to slowly drain away, waited until his eyes begun to slide shut before she turned the corner and re-entered the tower dais.

Part of her wondered if she had perhaps taken too long, an emotion twisting the space in her chest uncomfortably with something she didn't have time to identify, _refused_ to examine.

_She had to be sure she hadn't taken too long_.

What she found when she arrived once more on the upper tower dais was perhaps more a surprise because it was more optimistic than she had ever expected. Not only was Alistair alive, but, despite her expectation the much larger creature seemed visibly weakened.

Swaying on its feel, Elisaris could read the signs well enough that all it would take was one well aimed blow to bring the monstrosity to his knees. If she was going to take advantage of this moment, she had to act immediately.

And so she did. Rushing forward as she ripped her dagger from its sheaths, she circled around the pair of warriors and attacked from the ogre's blind side.

Jumping with all the strength she had left in her legs, the elven woman launched herself upon the creatures' back, away from his spiked armor and heavy fists, her hands catching the bottom most curve of his horn as she braced herself against his effort to throw her off. And with as much skill as she could manage she withdrew her remaining short sword from its sheath on her back, stabbing it viciously into the Ogres neck, grimacing only momentarily as warm blood splashed her arms and legs. Again and again until her arms ache with the strain and her hands are too slick with crimson to hold the handle of her weapon any longer, slimy with the tainted blood of this monster.

She had to scramble off of it when it begins to fall backwards, throwing herself to the side so as not to be crushed the tremendous body.

And then it was over, the cavernous space filled with only the harsh breathing of the city elf and the grating of heavy armor plates.

Two pairs of eyes met a moment later, as if to check the other for any major damage. They were wounded, exhausted, and more bruised than they ever had been, _but they were alive_.

Elisaris found the notion both terribly depressing and exhilarating all at once.

"We don't have much time," her soft voice carried and echoed in the vast expanse of the tower, "Where is the…"

"The beacon is over there," grimacing, Alistair nodded to a grand fireplace located at the edge of the circular dais, "We've surely missed the signal. Better light it before it's too late."

And so the elven woman did so, setting the pile of wood ablaze, only to turn suddenly as shouts of warning issued from the mouth of her remaining companion. The darkspawn were everywhere, and as Elisaris watched Alistair disappear into the fray, the sudden jolting pain of several arrows pierced her body sending her crashing to the ground.

_Perhaps she was not going to survive after all. _

Elisaris' helpless laughter filled the air seconds before she faded to darkness.

*** * * * * * ***

Elisaris woke up suddenly, eyes snapping open, only to realize something was off.

She had _woken_ up...she was _alive_.

"Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother should be pleased."

The familiarity of the voice should have made her relax, but instead the elven woman could do little more than tense expectantly, waiting for some sort of trap.

_She was supposed to be DEAD. _

"Oh come of it…" a pair of golden eyes peered down at her, expression curious, "What has you all tense?"

"I'm supposed to be dead."The elf's voice was rough but audible in the silent room.

"You were injured, and then mother rescued you." Cool hands helped her sit up but released her quickly afterwards, "Do you not remember?"

"I remembering being overrun by darkspawn…" the other woman admitted quietly, "but little more than that…I was…injured…killed."

"Oh do stop being so dramatic." The young witch, Morrigan cast an annoyed look over her shoulder, "Mother managed to save you and your friend though it _was_ a close call."

Turning back to the large black pot she was tending to by the hearth she continued, "What is important is that you both lived, many others were not so lucky. The man who was supposed to answer your signal quit the field…the darkspawn won your battle."

Elisaris felt her world tip a little bit off center, "What?"

_The man who quit the field…hadn't he been the King's Advisor? His friend?_

"Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend…he is not taking it well."

_Then the King…and Duncan…were both dead?_

The reality of their situation was unfathomable; the elven woman could hardly come to grips with the implication of Morrigan's words. And yet, part of her laughed at her ignorance, mocking her with the still fresh memory of her dead fiancé.

_Hadn't she learned that human men did nothing but pursue their own pleasures, no matter what cost it exacted from those around them?_

"What happened to the Grey Wardens? And the King?"

"All dead."

That the woman sounded so casual of the fact made the truth that much worse, "Your friend has veered between denial and grief since mother told him. He is outside by the fire should you wish to see him. Mother had also wished to see you when you awoke."

Nodding in understanding, the city elf had pushed herself to her feet and begun dressing in a light tunic and pants before she remembered the attack that had sent her so unceremoniously into oblivion. Looking down at her pale torso she found that she now bore dark purple and black bruises but the wounds themselves were not what she expected.

"Were my injuries severe?"

"Yes but I expect you should be fine. The darkspawn did nothing that mother could not heal."

"She didn't heal _everything_ I hope," looking at the witch expectantly, Elisaris motioned to the cut on her upper arm with a pointed look.

"No, I don't suppose she did," Morrigan gave the slightly grey wound a brief glance before dismissing the woman entirely, "Though it is only because you were lucid enough at the time to tell her so. Strange thing that."

The elven woman merely nodded silently, pulling on the leather boots she recognized as her own, not bothering to tighten the straps they were more comfortable that way.

"And Alistair is he alright?"

"He is as you are," Morrigan responded, turning away from the large bubbling pot in the corner, "Though I suppose it would be unkind to say he is being childish?"

Elisaris did not believe the witch meant to be rude, merely curious, but she mentioned that the knight, no doubt, had felt the loss more acutely, _his_ friends had been victims of the senseless massacre that had occurred; _she_ had certainly lost no one.

"I must go check on him then," the elven woman said once she had finished dressing, throwing a large shawl over her tunic just in case. Her body still ached despite the healing but she couldn't stomach the cold, no matter what.

"I shall meet with your mother afterwards if that is acceptable."

"I cannot say what my mother may or may not find to her liking," the witch answered neutrally, "But I doubt she will be bothered by your other task, be on your way."

Elisaris merely nodded her thanks before exiting the small one room hut, her mind too crowded with information to hear anything else.

That was, until she spotted both Alistair and elder witch standing at the edge of the little swamp-island on which the house rested. And though she had intended to approach without bothering their conversation, her appearance was met with immediate comment.

"See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man!"

Swaying slightly but managing a tight smile, Elisaris approached both knight and woman with little problem.

"You…you're alive." Alistair's voice was half-strangled as he spoke, his relief nearly palpable as she drew closer, "H-huh…I thought you were dead for sure."

Looking as if he wanted to touch her, the ex-templar merely stared at her for a long moment, his tawny colored eyes searching her face for sign of distress.

"I'm not, thanks to Morrigans' mother." Elisaris tried to smile but her lips trembled a little, she could not say if it was in disappointment or relief.

Immediately the knights' face crumbled and his shoulders hunched, "Oh this doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigans' mother we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present lad." The old crone warned from over the younger womans' shoulder.

"I-I didn't mean…"Alistair fumbled a little as he strove to be polite, "B-but what do we call you? You never told us your name."

"Names are pretty but useless," the old woman responded, "Still…the Chasind folk call me Flemeth; I suppose it will do."

"_The_ Flemeth?"

Elisaris had never heard the name before, but it was quickly apparent by Alistairs' uneasy countenance that he had, and whatever he knew was less than pleasant, "Daveth was right…You _are_ the Witch of the Wilds aren't you?"

"And what does that _mean_?" The older woman asked flippantly, "I know a bit of magic and it has served you both well, has it not?"

Elisaris felt a wave of unease wash over her at the mention of magic, years of conditioning had seen fit to make the younger woman weary, if not altogether uncomfortable, with any mention of such ability.

"Then why didn't you save Duncan?" Alistair's voice was tight as he cast a stricken look at the witch, "He is, _was_, our leader."

"I am sorry for your Duncan, but your grief must come later, 'in the dark shadows before you take vengeance' as my mother once said. _Duty_ must come _now_."

Elisaris watched as Alistair flinched at the reminder and felt her hand just barely brush the thick plated armor which he wore, a small comfort, the only kind she could find it in herself to give. She doubted he could feel her beside him, but when she looked away he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight." Flemeth leveled her deep golden gaze at the young elf woman, "Or did that change while I wasn't looking."

"Of course not…" Elisaris swayed a little in place but remained where she was, she had no idea why the witch had bothered addressing her, Alistair had become the leader in Duncan's stead, not her.

"But we _were_ fighting the darkspawn!" Alistairs' voice had grown angry his arms making great slashing motions as he spoke, "The king had nearly defeated them. Why would Loghain do this?"

"Now that _is_ a good question," For once the elderly witch smiled at the knight, "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can out maneuver. Perhaps he does not see the evil behind it is the _true_ threat."

"The Archdemon."

Alistair's stunned conclusion was laced with horror, and though the elven woman _had_ heard stories of such a creature as a child she doubted that the other warden spoke of the fairytale monster to which her mind had immediately fastened.

Moment later she realized she was wrong; it was _exactly_ the monster from her childhood stories. A wave of nausea crashed over the female elf until she had to brace her hands on her knees. Taking a long look at her feet, she breathed deeply, slowly, as she eyed the delicate patterns her mother had sewn into the leather wedding present her father had saved. The small bit of comfort she gleaned from such familiarity allowed her to straighten a moment later with a shaky breath.

"No Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without the army of a half-dozen nations at his back." Alistair looked paler now that she looked at him, the fear in his eyes made him look younger than she had first thought, "Not to mention…I don't know how!"

"How to kill the Archdemon, or how to raise an army?" Flemeth chuckled as her long spindly fingers dug through her hair, "It seems to me that those are two different questions, hmm?"

Elisaris didn't particularly care how many questions were being asked, and neither apparently did Alistair, his face continuing to pale as the witch continued to talk.

"Have the Wardens no allies these days?"

"I-I…don't know." Alistair seemed to struggle to remember something, _anything, _that could be of use to them now, "Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had been called, and Arl Eamon would never stand for this surely."

"Arl Eamon?"

The name was one Elisaris had heard before if just because she had friends who now lived there, serving in the castle, "The Arl of Redcliff?"

Alistair nodded absently as he continued to think aloud, "Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar. He must still have all of his men, _and_ he was Cailan's Uncle. I _know_ him; he's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet…of course! We could go to Redcliff and appeal to him for help."

Elisaris imagined that the journey would be more complicated than that, but nodded anyway, his plan was more than the _nothing_ they had had before.

_Besides_, she reminded herself, _Alistair was the older of the two of them, the leader._

And yet, it would be Flemeth who would once more remind the two wardens of the difficulties, _impossibilities,_ they would have to overcome.

"It's been centuries since the last Blight," the old witch cast a knowing glance at the elven woman before turning to the human beside her, "Nobody will take it seriously until it's too late. "

The sudden discouragement Elisaris felt at those words only seemed to further point to her own youth, lack of worldly experience and very real possibility that death was just around the corner.

"There has to be something we can do…"

_She wished she was more like her mother, at least Adaia had been brave, a warrior even though she was both a woman and an elf. Elisaris had used such traits as a means of excusing herself from the duty she had not wanted, had not believed she deserved. But she couldn't deny her role…not any longer…not with so much at stake…_

Elisaris' hands clenched into fists, "There _has_ to be something we can do."

"The treaties…" It was Alistair who once more came up with the solution, "Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places. They're obligated to help us during the Blight!"

The elder which seemed amused with the ex-templar but once more turned her golden eyes to the elven maid, her gaze suddenly infinitely deeper, more serious.

"I may be old but dwarves, elves, _mages_…this Arl Eamon and who knows what else; this sounds like an army to me."

She _knew_ something, that old witch, a _dark _secret Elisaris sensed though she could no sooner hope to understand it than she could understand the man standing beside her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled a little in warning, but the elven rogue knew better than to say anything, mages were _not_ the sort of people she wanted to push, _in any way_.

Alistair, it seemed was blissfully oblivious, and perhaps all the better for it. Indeed, it was only because of his continuous conversation that she even managed to break from that hypnotic fluorspar gaze.

"So can we do this, go to Redcliff and these other places and build an army?" His soft tenor voice filled the space between them as he turned to look at her, his dark gaze easily capturing her own.

"I…doubt it will be that easy" Elisaris spoke carefully as she tested out the fledgling bit of bravery she had managed to scrape together, "But I think that we should give it a try, there's too much at stake not to."

Despite her halting speech, and the somewhat unsure stumble of her words, Alistair seemed pleased at her showing, his kind smile a reassurance Elisaris had not realized she so craved. And yet, the fact tha_t this _hypnotic gaze didn't make her as uneasy as that of the witch quickly filled the elven maiden with renewed confusion.

_What was happening to her?_

As if to confront her with another bit of unease, the younger Witch of the Wilds emerged from the small wooden hut, her beautifully exotic face impassive as she glanced at the two wardens before turning to her parent.

"The stew is bubbling mother; shall we have two guests for this eve…or none?"

"The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly girl, and _you_ will be joining them." Flemeth hardly seemed to blink as she revealed the help she had only just suggested, a surprise in and of itself...to everyone involved. Indeed, Morrigan cry of outrage rang out not a second later, and though both Elisaris and Alistair found the situation perhaps less than ideal, the knowing glance that passed from older witch to elven woman reminded the young rogue of the potential danger that the wardens faced, even now among _allies_.

Morrigan _would_ be coming with them.

The first night was to be the truest test of their ability to work together.

* * * * * * *

"I _swear_…if you do that one more time I will turn you into a rabbit for the stew."

Elisaris walked back into the warm glow of the firelight to find her two companions at opposite ends of the clearing, their expressions of identical aggravation.

"What? What did I do?!"

Shouting exasperatedly, the tall knight was bent in half stirring the evening meal, for which Elisaris had just come back, carrying with her a brace of rabbits.

"The fact that you don't know just proves to me just how much of a fool you are."

Arms crossed, Morrigan's golden eyes shone through the darkness like that of a cat, her mouth pressed in a straight line.

**"**Ah…and see who appears?" The young witch nodded at Elisaris though there was no smile on her face, "The _competent _Grey Warden."

Smiling despite her increasing discomfort, the elven woman navigated the small campsite to hand the hares to the waiting ex-templar. No doubt he would make quick work of what she had brought, but she really needed to bathe, if just to get the scent of darkspawn blood off her skin and the thick leather armor she wore.

As it was, Morrigan sauntered off not a moment later to show her the way to a suitable bathing spot. And though Elisaris could feel Darkspawn lingering at the edges of her consciousness, none came to bother the two women as they quickly bathed, rinsing clothing and cleaning armor before heading back to camp.

Dinner was eaten in silence, and though the duty of washing their plates should have fallen to her, Alistair shouldered the task instead, leaving her alone as he left for the nearby brook.

_She was really tired. _

Groaning softly the elven woman slumped a little against her bedroll and lay down beside the fire, her hand slowly drifting to the dark wound that lay unseen beneath her leather jerkin. Poisoned, the wound had slowed her ever since she received it. Back at the Tower, the pain had nearly made her faint before they had reached the ogre. Every little action seemed to sap too much strength from her, and the forced march through the Wilds had hardly done her any good; her muscles _ached_ and she felt sick.

"Elisaris?"

A dark shadow fell across her face, and the elven woman opened her eyes to find the other warden standing over her, his expression worried.

"Hmm?" Striving for nonchalance despite the pain buzzing through her body, Elisaris blinked, "Something you wanted to talk about, Alistair?"

Warm hands pushed an equally warm cloth into her hands, lingering for just a moment before pulling away.

"Here, take this."

"What's this for?" Forcing herself to meet his eyes, Elisaris met the worried brown of her companion with a mild smile.

"You've been looking increasingly pale since we crossed through the bog," He sounded tense, as if he half expected her to keel over and die in the next couple of seconds, "Even Morrigan's mentioned something, and believe me; she is _not_ the sort to care."

Her smile widened a little more. "You just say that because she threatened to turn you into various forest animals at least three times since we left her house."

"That is very true…but _you_ are changing the subject.

Immediately the good humor on the elven woman's face disappeared, in its place an unreadable mask. "I'm just tired."

"Morrigan and I are tired…_you_ seem exhausted."

A flicker of unease crossed the elf's face, lost in the next second as she placed the towel over her eyes mouth flattened into a line. They may both be wardens, but she would be a fool to trust anyone, especially a _human_ man, so readily.

"I am an elf; you cannot expect me to have the same sort of stamina of which both of you has in such great supply."

"But…"

"I will speak no more of this Alistair; leave it for what it is."

"I just…"

It didn't take a genius to know exactly what he was thinking, what memory continued to plague him despite the exhaustion she knew they all suffered from. She had told Morrigan that Alistair had lost the most from the battle at Ostagar; it was only now that the elven woman was beginning to understand what that meant.

_She was not the only one to carry scars upon her heart. _

And so, even though she _knew_ that each little kindness she showed was inexorably pushing her in a direction that frightened her, she allowed her hand to pluck the cloth from her face and gently press it to his chilled cheek.

A tender expression passed between them then, the start of a relationship deeper than wardens. A fledging bond, borne from the silent pains that each carried.

"I'm not going anywhere Alistair." _I'm not Duncan, and this is not the battle of Ostagar._ She turned to her side, unable to look at him any longer, too confused at the emotions that welled so readily in her chest. "When you come to get me for my turn at the watch, I will be here."

The human man smiled softly, "You better be."

"I promise…now let me get some sleep."

And though she tried her best to wait until Alistair had disappeared, the soft sobbing breaths she took seemed too loud in the silence. Her wedding ring on her finger seemed to burn red hot, a brand on her skin for the traitorous feelings over which she was slowly losing control.

_What was happening to her?_


	4. Chapter 4: Wound

**AN: **Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay on this chapter - I've had a busy couple of weeks and have only been able to write in the small amount of down time that I've had. Also, as many of you probably can tell ME2 has begun to suck me in, and its SO hard to resist. Bioware is just too evil (read: AMAZING) to be releasing two lovely game titles within three months of each other and expecting me to keep up :)

In any case, I'm sorry to the wait and hope you enjoy this chapter - though it may be choppy at parts (in which case PLEASE let me know so I can try and edit it). Thanks to all who have reviewed and added this fic to their alerts/faves - it means a lot :) And as always, I don't own anything pertaining to or related to DA:O

~Voi

* * *

Elisaris woke in a cold sweat, her hands clamped on the thick furs of her bedroll with enough force to turn her knuckled white. Breathing hard, her eyes searched wildly for the dark specter that had tortured her in her sleep but finding little more than the brilliant orange glow of the fire.

It was morning; she had slept the entire night undisturbed. Part of her should have luxuriated in the additional hours of sleep, but instead the elven woman felt nothing but sharp indignation.

"Alistair!"

Pulling off the thick furs with one sharp tug, the lone elven rogue squeaked in surprise as the piercing cold of early morning penetrated the thin tunic she was wearing. Grumbling, she paused her angry tirade for a moment longer as she tugged on the leather armor, dressing quickly beneath the furry warmth of her blankets.

_She was going to kill that man when she finally got a hold of him._

"Ah! Good morning Elisaris!"

_Well now, wasn't this convenient?_

Looking up at the cheerful older warden, the elven woman didn't bother to hide the scowl on her lips, the accusation of her eyes.

"You didn't wake me up for night watch."

It wasn't a question, and by the sharpness of her tone Alistair knew that no amount of playful banter would get him out of this particular course of discussion; that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Ahahaha…well you see…"

"You let me _sleep_ all night," the young warden was furious, "after the conversation last night I thought it was clear you were to get me for my shift. Why didn't you?"

"Uhh…it was Morrigan's fault?"

He was a _terrible_ liar.

"Don't you even start!" growling as she stabbed a finger up at him, Elisaris looked no more threatening than the cat Alistair remembered having as a child, the smile finding its way onto his lips at precisely the wrong moment.

"Why are you smiling?! Do you _really_ want me to ask Morrigan what it was she did…what _you_ said she did?"

Turning as if to make good on her promise, the elven woman took not more than three steps before a warm hand caught her own, forcing her to stop.

"You wouldn't!"

Face pale and expression one of absolute horror, the older warden looked more like frightened boy than battle-worn man, a look which Elisaris imagined only women as skilled as Morrigan were capable of invoking.

_She'd have to ask for some tips next time they stopped for camp. _

"No Alistair…I don't suppose I would." Sighing heavily, the elven rogue patted the hand that lingered on her arm, still unable to shake the unhappiness at her companions' actions.

"I-I didn't realize letting you sleep in would make you so upset…"

"I don't like shirking my duties…letting people down."

The flash of pain across her face at her small admittance made the ex-templar wonder anew at the circumstances that surrounded the woman's arrival with the wardens. Still, the deep aversion to disappointing others was a sentiment Alistair could understand most whole heartedly.

"I promise I won't let you sleep through your shift at the Watch again. I had thought that…" The human man coughed suddenly, "Never mind what I thought, it will be the last time I do that, I promise."

And though the elven woman seemed to accept his claim, the minute she turned to track down the third member of their little party the ex-Templar hesitated to follow her.

Eying her quietly retreating form, the other warden took quick inventory of the way she moved through camp now that she had had a full night of sleep. He was well versed enough in healing to know that she was suffering from some sort of illness, though he couldn't be sure of what. The fact that she seemed to be more rested now, enough to come and yell at him, satisfied him to no end though this time he stifled his smile behind a large hand.

_No sense in letting her know the truth yet, the elven woman was proving to be quite the stubborn lady. _

* * * * * * *

They had traveled not more than half a day's journey out of the Wilds when they came upon the well worn ground that indicated one of the many roads that connected all of Fereldan. Pausing as they crossed the path, Morrigan made to continue their forward march towards the plains that lay before them.

"We'd best avoid standing around here if we can help it."

Warning them against the potential dangers of _human being_ and not darkspawn seemed almost silly to the witch, but as she outlined the potential threats, the flicker of _something_ beneath the composed mask of their elven leader made her wonder.

_So she had secrets did she? _The lips of the younger woman twitched in the effort not to smirk, w_hat dark secrets did their leader guide behind her calm façade?_

Only time would tell.

"Come on, we had best get moving before we attract any unwanted attention."

And then Morrigan was moving anew, walking nearly soundlessly in the brush.

Elisaris nodded in understanding but lingered a moment longer, a sudden sense of disquiet falling over the elven woman the more she stood there listening to the silence of the forest; it was almost _too_ silent really. Not a bird flew in the sky nor called out to another, only the sound of the rain permeated the air around them.

And it was there that she spotted it, a caravan of refugees, ragged and weary, the women wore identical masks of tension while the children sat silently in terrified panic within the dim wooden confines of their large traveling wagons. Elves, the survivors of an Alienage that no doubt lay in ruins.

Unarmed and without any apparent means of defending themselves, it became increasingly clear that they had fled a battle in which all of their men folk were currently engaged.

"How long ago did you leave them?"

Speaking before she quite knew what she was saying, Elisaris had cleared the space between herself and the caravan in the span of a few seconds. Distrust crossed the faces of all but a few of the refugees, but the answer came anyway.

"Not more than ten minutes…they told us to run…there was nothing we could do."

The elven rogue didn't doubt that the majority of the men were dead by now, they were civilians not warriors. But she could no sooner turn away from the possibility that a few tenacious souls might still be alive, and she _could not_ leave them behind.

_She just hoped she wasn't too late._

A momentary flash of Shianni's face seemed to only drive the decision further into her mind; _she would not leave them to suffer such a fate. _

And so, without another word to either the refugees or her companions, the small elven woman began to run down the dirt path, her expression set in one of utmost concentration.

_Never again...she could not abandon them. _

* * * * * * *

The three companions re-appeared in the dim light of campfire several hours later, streaked with gore and supporting a handful of elven men, battered but _alive_.

"Thank the Maker!"

Amidst the sudden relieved cry by many of the women, equal notes of sorrow rang out the dark space, the wails of pain and stifled tears an indication of the already heavy cost extracted on all citizens of Ferelden.

_They were exhausted._

Muscles trembling and cuts stinging, Elisaris had only barely managed to help a particularly wounded man lay down on a makeshift bed when she found herself face to face with deep blue eyes, fathomless knowledge lying just below the surface.

"Yes?"

The Matriarch, for truly it could only be she, smiled warmly at the younger elf before gesturing to a pair of seats located a scant few steps away.

"Shall we?"

The two women took their places, tired expressions mirrored between them both. And yet, in their turns, each woman assessed the other. As was her right, the Matriarch spoke first.

"By the Maker, you're not much older than a child are you?"

Warm hands came and pressed themselves to pale cheeks, touching pointed ears with the careful consideration of one who knew how sensitive they were. Elisaris shuddered softly at first, but her agitation dissipated quickly as she watched the dark blue eyes of the other; calm and serene, the rogue half wondered if there was _something _the Matriarch searched for with her deep blue gaze.

"What are you doing out in the woods like this _Da'len_? Where are your mother and father?"

Despite the gentle tone of the question Elisaris felt her face burn in embarrassment, she knew she was young, but she was _not_ a child. She could not bring herself to correct with the woman, however, and so she answered as best she could.

"My father is already in Denerim."

From the corners of her eyes she could tell that this conversation was being listened to by all those around them, a lack of privacy that came as a sudden shock for one as private as herself.

"But to leave a child all alone?" The matriarch sounded deeply worried, "You look barely able to marry let alone travel around by yourself!"

"I _am_ old enough to travel," the younger elf interjected, "and even then, I am not traveling alone."

The deep penetrating blue eyes strayed from the small elven rogue to pass judgment over the other two who had come to stand behind her.

"A human man?" the voice was surprised but hardly the condescending expression she had expected, the expression she saw on many of the faces of the caravan when they had first arrived.

"Is he your lover, then?" Meant to be neutral, the older woman could not hide the strains of disbelief and simmering tension, feelings that Elisaris had once known as her own, for indeed it was unthinkable than any elven woman would willingly consort with human men.

"He is my traveling companion and he has saved my life several times, we are comrades."

"And the woman?"

Those in the caravan glanced at Alistair with a wary distrust borne of untold experience before turning their attention to the golden eyed witch, their expression identical masks of undiluted fear. Elisaris could sympathize; magic was as unnerving to her as it was unknown.

"Her name is Morrigan, she is also a companion."

Those watching merely nodded minutely, their eyes wide as the witch strode forward, her expression one of annoyance.

"Well, this is all just fun and games isn't it? I _told_ you that we should have stayed away from the road, nothing but silly travelers and desperate bandits."

Elisaris could only sigh in defeat; _the faster they reached Lothering, the better. _

* * * * * * *

"Well…that took longer than expected."

Alistair's voice was tired but contented as they walked along the edge of one clearing in the Wilds. They had spent the night with the Caravan before once more beginning their journey in the early light of the new day.

"Sorry," sighing for what was to be nearly the sixth time that day Elisaris glanced at both mage and templar, an exasperated expression on her face, "I didn't realize they'd keep up so long."

"That's what you get when you try and play hero for the common folk," Morrigan reminded her, "Always something else, some annoying task they want done, or question they want answered."

"I wasn't trying to play _hero_!" The elven woman contested hotly as she met the other's golden gaze, "They were under attack, what else was I supposed to do?!"

Before the dark haired witch could respond, their third companion cut in.

"You're asking _her_?" the man sounded baffled, "Why don't you just think of the worse possible response to the situation, that's probably what she would do!"

"Alistair!"

"What?!"

Looking anything but repentant, the other warden help up both hands in a mock surrender, his expression light hearted despite the less than pleased countenance of both his female companions.

"Your cynicism is _not _helping!"

Chortling, Alistair danced away from their piercing looks. "I'm not kidding! The nicest thing she would probably have done for them was turn them all into _squirrels_."

"If you are not careful I will hold you down for her so that she may do it more easily!"

"Ooh! That almost sounds like a promise!"

And with a sudden happy laugh, the ex-templar moved ahead of them, content in his small and albeit _temporary _victory.

It would be only minutes later that he would be forced to return to them once more, his expression bashful as he mumbled about not knowing which way to go. Elisaris didn't even have time to laugh before Morrigan began her rant anew.

And yet, no sooner had Morrigan spoken the words when a sudden excited barking filled the quiet path along which they were walking.

"What is-?"

Turning sharply to her left, the elven woman all but squealed as a thick furry body collided with her own, the mix of animal and woman tumbling several times before coming to a stop a few feet behind their remaining two companions.

"Maker's Breathe, is that a _mabari?_"

Face wet by the affectionate ministrations of the powerful war hound, Elisaris staggered to her feet with a grin while her distracted hands pushed the dirt crusted hair away from her face. Morrigan took their leader's temporary silence to answer with a suitable caustic remark of her own.

"Well what else does it look like you fool a _squirrel?_"

The older warden immediately took offence, "It was a rhetorical question, spoken at a moment of surprise. _Of course _I know what a mabari looks like, but what is it doing here?"

As if to answer his question, the large burly animal turned suddenly from whence he came and began to growl darkly, his hackles rising as he sank lower to the ground, teeth bared. The darkspawn appeared not a second later, their dark twisted bodies stinking with the smell of rotting flesh.

An Emissary and a small platoon of Genlock, the odds were not particularly in their favor, but as Elisaris watched the large hound charge the front line, something told her that perhaps they were not as unequal as they first appeared. After all, having another large muscled companion could hardly hurt.

The battle began in earnest, a clash of metal and crackle of magic electrifying the air amidst battle cries and the deep roaring of tainted beasts. Elisaris was pleased to find that she right, the hound did more than its share of the work; and though the image of her furry companion ripping the throat out of the last darkspawn should have properly shocked her, the elven woman merely had the urge to coo praises at the furry animal.

Alistair beat her to it.

"What a good doggy, oh yes you are!"

Grinning despite the blood that stuck to his face, the ex-templar danced around for a moment as he played with the great hound. Laughing like a child, it was many minutes before he found himself abandoned in favor of his elven companion, who had chosen to clean her weapons quietly in the shade of a rather large tree.

"Elisaris, head's up! He's coming your way."

The warning came a scant few seconds too late, and for the second time that day the elven woman was toppled over by a very excited mabari, her helpless laughter filling the air. Dappled with sunlight and the dust of the road, the image of her smiling face was not one Alistair was one to forget anytime soon. It would remain with him for days afterwards, lingering always at the back of his mind.

"So…what are you going to call him?"

"Him?"

"The Mabari, he needs a name."

"Oh…"

"You have one?"

The elven woman looked down at the war hound resting against her knees, "How do you feel about being called Dog?"

The low disbelieving whine seemed clear enough.

"Alright I'm sorry! I'll think of another…though I should warn you, this may take a while."

* * * * * * *

Lothering was quite unlike anything Elisaris had ever known. Though a town in its own right, it did not hold a candle to monstrous stone enclosures she remembered of Denerim. Instead small collections of wooden abodes clung together in little clusters of civilization amidst the sudden open plain that expanded out of the Korcari Wilds. Even Ostagar had held the remnants of the stone walls and architecture of the great fortress.

Elisaris half expected the buildings to come down around her in the next sharp gust of wind, the unprotected spindly wooden structures made her nervous. Still, there were supplies to be gathered, and having left Morrigan to deal with a particularly cold herbalist the elven woman had more than enough errands to run before they could leave this wooden death trap.

"Come along Kaim," calling over her shoulder to the just-named Mabari hound, Elisaris woman sighed, her expression shifting into one of delight only when the Mabari nudged her encouragingly, his big doggy tongue wiping slobber enthusiastically down her hand.

"We'll be back in about an hour Alistair, don't get into trouble ok?"

And then she was gone, the ex-templar looking on in sudden surprise as she disappeared from the empty streets around them.

Morrigan was going to _kill_ him.

He had looked away for all of five minutes, to look at a pretty flower, and now she had up and left with their newest companion. Why she had chosen to take the _dog_ and not him was beyond Alistair's understanding, but he was _not_ jealous; he was _not_.

As if to make his situation all the worse Morrigan appeared not a moment later, her attention fixed on the list of supplies in her hands. It would seem that the mere thought of her summoned the witch to his side like a beacon, a skill the ex-templar wished applied to their young elven leader.

"I swear they get more expensive every time I travel here; I hate that. In any case, I managed to pull enough money together to buy the supplies we need now all we need to do is…"

Golden eyes looked up from the piece of parchment to find only one of the three companions waiting for her.

_Lovely_.

"You waited, how sweet…" the look she gave him could have killed the Archdemon and ended the Blight, "Where did our fearless leader go off to?"

"Ahahaha well…about that…"

"Wait; let me guess…you've lost her – what a surprise." She didn't even bother letting him respond as she brushed past him, "useless with a map, and only slightly better with a sword… I swear, one day you will have to make yourself useful to us Alistair – willing or not."

The taller warden winced though was wise enough not to comment.

_He hoped they found said fearless leader soon. _

* * * * * * *

Elisaris found Alistair and Morrigan an hour later as planned, returning with a pair of keys and a contented smile on her face, the likes of which seemed mirrored in her four-legged companion.

"I've found us rooms for the evening," the smile on her face widened slightly, "Dinner too…so no cooking for Alistair tonight."

"You mean we don't have to suffer through his attempts at cooking, don't you?" Morrigan sounded pleased, a sentiment that the dog was quick to mirror.

"Oh what a smart dog!" Basking in the witch's praise, the stubby mabari tail wagged energetically, "You see Alistair, even _animals_ know better than to eat you cooking."

The man had his arms crossed in annoyance, "Haha, laugh it up. It'll be _you_ cooking from now on if you keep it up."

Smiling at their antics, Elisaris remained as diplomatically silent as ever, offering only the briefest conciliatory pats to Alistair's arm before turning to go, her hand clutching a small bundle of documents, requests from the chant board.

"I'll be back in another hour ok? See what you can do about getting a map of Fereleden, and I'll meet you at the front of the Chantry. Come on Kaim, time to go on another adventure."

"Oh no you don't!" Looking more than a little panicked, the other Grey Warden caught her wrist and gently tugged her back a step, "You're not leaving me with her for a second more, not unless you want to come back and find me as a _squirrel_!"

His ocher colored eyes darkened in fear, "I don't _want_ to be a squirrel!"

"Oh I don't know Alistair," the Elven woman teased him despite their mutual fear of magic; "I think you would make a very nice looking squirrel."

"Better than how I look now? No wait," his hands flared outwards dramatically, "Don't answer that – it's too much for my delicate sensibilities."

Elisaris merely grinned, as Morrigan snorted in contempt.

"Alright fine, I get it." The witch turned back to the list she had been examining, "You take Ser Fragile Flower with his Delicate Sensibilities, and I'll go and finish gathering the few supplies I missed."

And the she was gone, lost in a flurry of dark hair and her scent of the forest.

Alistair had never felt more relieved.

But what was supposed to be a small set of missions took nearly the entire day as they were forced to confront bears, bandits and more than one child curious about elves. As it was, the sun had all but set by the time Elisaris had managed to finish all of their tasks and bring a tired Kaim and exhausted Alistair to the small inn where they were supposed to meet up with Morrigan.

They were all in desperate need of food, but it would seem there would be one more trial before they would be allowed the peace they so desired, this trial came in the form of a tall and brightly garbed chantry woman; a woman who seemed to know them well.

"Oh! Hello again," her smile was as brilliant as it was unfamiliar, "Have you come to a decision as to whether I can come with you?"

Turning to give her other human companion a confused look Elisaris turned back to the chantry woman, "I'm sorry, but have we met before?"

"I met your friends earlier while you were away it seems. My name is Leliana, I am a lay sister from the Chantry here in Lothering, or I _was_."

Elisaris wasn't sure what _that_ meant but smiled all the same, "Nice to meet you, I am Elisaris. You must have already met Alistair, but this here is Kaim." Pointing down the heavily muscled mabari, the elven woman smiled fondly.

"They said you were a Grey Warden. I'm surprised you're an elf, but elves must want the Blight defeated as much as the humans, no?"

Her accent was quite distinct, but Elisaris was not nearly educated enough to know where exactly the woman had come from, certainly not Ferelden

"Still, it would seem you could use all the help you can get. That is why I am coming along."

Her smile was sincere despite the strangeness of her words.

"I will need help, that is true, but…"Elisaris turned to look at the Chantry in the distance, "Are you allowed to put aside your vows that easily?"

"I am hardly putting aside my vows," the redheaded woman smiled, "The Maker wants me to go with you."

Elisaris had thought she had misheard, "The Maker what?"

"I know that sounds…absolutely insane, but it's true! I had a dream."

"Another crazy?" Alistair's voice echoed faintly in Elisaris' pointed ear, "I thought we were all full up."

The woman elbowed him as the lay sister continued. He may have met her first, but that hardly gave _him_ decision making powers.

"Look at the people here, they are miserable and lost. And this darkness, this chaos, will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are _meant_ to do, is the Maker's work. _Let me help_."

Looking up at the red haired woman, Elisaris felt a pang of _something_ pierce her heart, sowing sorrow as the words began to stick.

_Was all of this truly a path intended for her to take by the Maker himself?_

Elisaris momentarily lost herself in the images of pain and suffering, the sheer amount of which seemed to swallow her whole.

_She had never wanted to be anything more than she was, _do_ anything more than she had intended. Was this quest to save Ferelden truly the path set out for her? She was woefully unprepared and untrained…still; it was the job Duncan has tasked her with at her initiation. _

Elisaris shook herself out of her reverie to smile, "Very well. I will not turn away help when it is offered, welcome Leliana."

The taller woman smiled back, "Thank you; I will not let you down."

*** * * * * * ***

It was later that evening when the small band of four adventurers all met up at the Inn, tired from the events of the day. Morrigan had been mercifully silent on the topic of their new companion, but the disapproval on her face when she had pulled Elisaris aside was clear.

"I managed to collect the remaining material you had put on the list, and all things considered we _should have_ been ready to leave early tomorrow morning. However, more people mean we need more provisions."

The female warden smiled apologetically, "I know that. I was thinking about spending another two days here in Lothering. We still don't have a true plan of where to go, so until then we should just prepare."

"This is a sound plan; very well, it will be as you say." And for the first time since she had first met the witch, Elisaris found herself at ease in the position of leader.

The feeling of peace was to be quite fleeting, as dinner had not yet finished when Elisaris had to excuse herself, disappearing into one of the two reserved rooms with little more than a word to her companions, swaying softly when she closed the door behind her.

_The pain was back, she needed to lie down. _

And so she did, passing out the moment her head hit the pillow.

*** * * * * * ***

It was the sound of the door swinging open several hours later that woke her.

Elisaris had only just opened her eyes from her nap when Alistair walked into the room, his room it turned out, his hair still damp from the bath. Muscles only just covered by the thin cloth of his sleeping tunic, the taller male smelled of crème soap and warm masculinity.

The elven woman flushed at the thoughts though she could do nothing about inhaling the spicy scent, finding relaxation easier only because she no longer focused on the ill feeling of her body.

"Hey," his hand hovered just shy of her forehead as he gazed down at her prone form, "Are you alright…Leliana took a look at you earlier, she said you looked…"

"…just a little sick."

"I'm not _that_ bad of a cook," Alistair joked as he leaned over her, still not touching her.

"You didn't even cook tonight…"

"Hahaha I know, right?" His silly grin was infectious. "Tell me that wasn't the best idea I've had in a while!"

"Your best idea _ever_ if I do say so myself," Elisaris smiled back before wincing suddenly, her hand immediately clamping onto her upper arm before she could quite mask her distress.

"Elisaris?"

Too concentrated on breathing through the pain, the elven woman ignored the question to grit her teeth against waves of sharp agony.

"Elisaris?"

"D-don't…it'll pass in a-" she gasped sharply and blanched.

"I know a bit of healing, let me see."

Half afraid that she was about to faint, Alistair moved to sit beside her, shifting her against him as he murmured softly to her. She was trembling. Large hands gently pulled the wide neckline of her tunic to the side, pushing her hands away within minimal strength.

"S-stop!"

Half moaning in agony, her expression twisted into one of fear when his large hands finally managed to pull the cloth entirely away from her shoulder, leaving only the thin chemise to cover the otherwise exposed contours of her body.

"What happened?" Alistair all but breathed the question as he looked down at her strained expression and the jagged grey wound that now lay exposed on her shoulder.

_He had thought she was ill, and in a way he had been right. _

"It was just a little scratch," she shuddered a little his grasp but made no move to pull away, her only outward expression of fear in the slow drain of color from her face. Alistair would have sworn if he had through it would do either of them any good, but as it was, all he could do was release her gently, pushing agitated hands through his short hair before searching for his healing kit.

"When?"

"Back in the Wilds, before we met Morrigan."

"If it was this bad didn't you get it looked at?!"

Ignoring the way she stiffened in distress, he bent down to examine the wound anew, his dark eyes intense as his hands softly plied the skin around it.

"By the Maker, we had _healers_ back at camp before the battle started, do you have some sort of death wish?!"

The fact that she hesitated before answering wasn't lost on her companion, and though he could do nothing about her response, he didn't have to like it.

_Not. One. Bit._

"Why didn't Flemeth cure you after she rescued you from the tower?" He asked instead, willing the tension in his voice to soften, to coax her to answer him.

"She knew I wanted to keep it inside me," the elven woman winced when he accidently pressed too hard on the delicate skin, " It's part of what I need to build up an immunity…if I'm going to work with poisons I'm going to have to be immune to them too."

"You…"

"The cut was admittedly a little bit of a surprise, but with what little immunity I have right now, it shouldn't last for much longer."

He caught her by the arms as she swayed suddenly, looking at her pale sweaty brow in concern.

"Poisons are part of what I do. I'm a rogue _remember_?"

No, she was little more than a young girl, still a _child_ by elven standards, but Alistair could hardly contradict such an exhausted woman without fear of causing her further distress. Indeed, even her own reply seemed to take what little strength she had left and as her eyes fluttered suddenly as if she were to suddenly fall faint, Alistair's quiet strength kept her upright.

"I…" mumbling a little, her hand rested gently against his chest, "I should probably go to my room."

"You are in no condition to go there alone," Alistair chided softly as he slowly steadied her once more, "I'll go get Leliana to help you."

"Oh no…it's ok, like I said…"

"_Elisaris."_

Forcing her feet under her, Elisaris stubbornly pushed up from the bed amidst protests from her friend, his much larger hands falling away for only a moment before they returned anew at her elbow.

_He was treating her like a child._

Frowning at the thought, the elven woman sought to remedy the situation by trying again only to feel the hand tighten in warning.

"Don't even try it. Maker, you are the most supremely _stubborn_ woman I've ever met."

From his position on the bed, Kaim voiced his agreement, his sharp barks startling the pair enough that Elisaris found herself cradle protectively in Alistair's arms.

_He was really very warm._

"You can let me go now…" voice not much louder than a whisper, the rogue forced her hands to relax their tight grip on the front of his tunic. She was close enough now that the distinctly masculine scent seemed to cling to her as much as it did to his own clothing, the warm skin of his arms penetrating the thin dressing gown Leliana had let her borrow.

Walking her across the hall to her own room seemed at once both a curse and wonderful pleasure, the softness of his touch sending lightning racing through her body.

_And he smelled so very good. _

The thought made her flush; though from embarrassment or feminine awareness she couldn't say. And when Elisaris turned to thank him for his help she saw a flurry of emotion cross his face much like her own, undecipherable in the next moment as he smiled down at her, smoothing one stray lock of hair from her shoulder and gently flicking the tip of her nose.

"I'll see you in the morning Elisaris, sleep well."

The elven woman merely smiled back, her expression softy affectionate, "You too Alistair."


End file.
